#such a hard life for little Delphi

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Listen. Delphi can't help it if angsty teens swarm to her like moth to a flame. She's just extremely big sister coded. She gets it from her Aunt Andy.

[cringefailkralie]

ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

[hedwig221b]

omg qween goddess supreme hedwig221b can you please, pretty please rec me some regency and/or historical sterek 🥹

hoping you have a good day/night (idk your timezone lol)

Hi, love! You know me so well... historical aus, my beloved 💜

When All the Pieces Fit by NARKOTIKA

"Does he even realize? With the cooking and cleaning andandand—now this fucking baby?" Isaac fumes. Said baby waves its fist in the air, and Stiles bends to haul him onto a hip. The baby babbles something and Stiles nods his head with complete seriousness, as if everything out of its mouth is perfectly sensible and coherent. Then the kid starts mouthing at Stiles' nipple through his dress and everyone goes dead silent. "I'm going to wife him so hard," Ethan announces, and they all break out into argument over who has the best chance at mating the boy in the river.

Elskende by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Stiles is an omega concubine, kept sequestered away in the city of Beacon Hills, waiting for his lord Gerard Argent when the Wulver take the city and the alpha takes the omega.

Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend. In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better. ~*~ Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

Meant to be One by sunhazeheart

His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it. It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack. Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears. Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.

The Wolf Lord by mikkimouse

"You never know," Lydia said. "Perhaps the Wolf Lord will ask you to dance tonight." Stiles scoffed. "Oh, yes, of course he will. And then he'll transform into a giant black wolf and whisk me away to his estate to live happily ever after." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Actually, I rather hope he does ask me to dance. I can tell him how ridiculous these masquerades are."

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

Where the Shadow Ends by Green

Derek goes undercover to Delphi to figure out what's wrong with the oracle. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

The Hills Call

Five years ago, Prince Derek of the Hale Empire had fallen for the son of a Baron, Genim of Stilinski. His mother had not approved, and after some time imprisoned Genim escaped to the Dukedom of the Shore, where he was taken in by Duke Christopher and Lady Allison. Now, Prince Derek is on his deathbed from a poisoning and it is up to Genim, now called Stiles, to nurse him back to health. Wary of the Hale Empire, Stiles returns with their young son to see if he can heal Derek of his illness and escape the threats he still feels from the Empress herself.

The Light in the Woods by DiscontentedWinter

To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles.

I encourage you heavily to go through the works of Dexterous_Sinistrous and DarkAthena (seraphim_grace), these two are my crushes and I am in awe of their work, it's so good. I could genuinely sit here and list dozens of their fics - I already did list some of my most beloved fics of theirs...

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: a PJO AU

-

Cellbit hasn't been a demigod since he was eight years old staring a snake woman in the eyes in downtown Manhattan. It's been almost ten years since then, and he hasn't bothered with the gods since. (Good riddance.)

But then, of course, Richarlyson.

And then, of course, the spiders.

Oh, the spiders...

So now Cellbit has Richarlyson in the back seat of a stolen car with Pac and Mike on either side of him, Felps riding shotgun and shouting insults at the dozen or so dog-sized spiders chasing them down the highway. They're just under five minutes away from where Cellbit vaguely remembers camp being, which means Richarlyson is just under five minutes away from what is going to be the worst day of his life.

(Cellbit never got claimed, thank the gods. Mike says that he doesn't believe in divine authority, so he won't recognize whoever his parent is. Pac is long-claimed by now, but this also isn't his camp or pantheon. And Felps is... Felps.)

Richarlsyon has his headphones on, and he's watching The Lorax on his tablet (also stolen.) This is probably why the spiders are chasing them, but Cellbit doesn't have the heart to take it away from them.

Spiders... eugh. Of course, it just had to be spiders.

Cellbit watches a spider lunge for the driver's side door via the side mirror.

With a grimace, he takes one hand off of the wheel and slams his door open with his free hand.

The spider goes flying, and it's immediately run over and squished into a spider-shaped mass of goo on the road.

"Ewwww," Pac complains.

Cellbit wrinkles his nose in agreement. He pulls his door shut and stabilizes the car and tries not to think about how the squished-up spider is going to reform in a second and come after him and probably, like, murder him in his sleep after he drops Richarlyson off.

(The downside of refusing to associate with the gods for a decade is a distinct lack of celestial bronze weaponry. Except for...)

"Keep an eye out for a sign," Cellbit tells the others. "It's... strawberries? Something about strawberries."

The car jerks as a couple of spiders leap onto the trunk and start hissing.

Cellbit swears and sharply turns the car to the left, sending the spiders- and Mike- flying.

Mike shouts, and then he screams as a spider jumps up onto the window next to him.

"What the fuck?" he yells. "Pac!"

"Got it!" Pac cheerily says.

With only a little hesitation, he unbuckles his seat belt, leans across both an unbothered Richarlyson and a freaked-out Mike, rolls the window down, and stabs the spider through with the blade of his gladius. The spider screeches and dissolves into dust.

One down, so many more to go.

Pac grins and sits back in his seat. He ruffles Richarlyson's hair as he does so, retracting his sword back into his watch and re-buckling his seat belt.

Cellbit turns his attention back to the road. No signs yet... but it's also been ten years since he's been in New York, let alone at camp. Things could have changed. Things probably did change, and probably not for the better. Maybe the campers lost the war. Maybe the Titans won (but probably not considering the world hasn't been destroyed in the years since 2009.) Maybe Bagi-

"Delphi Strawberry Service," Felps hums. He looks at Cellbit. "Is that it?"

Cellbit answers by jerking the car so hard to the right that everybody inside, himself included, is pulled to the side. He grits his teeth and tries to stay as upright as he can.

(Why is he the only one who can drive, again?)

The car pulls onto a familiar gravel road. There's a tall tree on the hill ahead of them. Even through the windows, Cellbit can smell the scent of sweet, fresh strawberries and bonfire smoke. There are people on the hill braiding flowers.

The spiders continue giving chase. One must manage to puncture one of the tires with its fangs, because one of the lights on the dashboard goes red, and the car starts to wobble and slow down.

Cellbit groans and presses his foot to the gas. "Nooo, come on!"

They're so close! He can see the Golden Fleece waving in the wind.

He can also see a very large statue of a woman towering above the treeline. She looks... familiar. In a bad way.

Cellbit shudders and tears his eyes away from the statue. It's none of his business, anyway; he's just dropping Richarlyson off, and then he and the others are leaving before they're noticed.

Another tire is popped. The car stops.

Finally, Richarlyson takes his headphones off.

"Where are we?" he asks.

Cellbit tries to smile at him through the rear-view mirror.

"We're going to summer camp, remember?" he attempts.

Richarlyson- six years old and too smart for his age- does not appear to be too happy about that statement. Makes sense, he didn't want to leave California in the first place. Cellbit doesn't blame him; the weather is much more tolerable there than it is in New York.

The car shakes as spiders start climbing it. They start trying to break through the windows using their evil little spider legs and their absolutely horrifying spider fangs: enormous pointy things oozing a purple liquid that bubbles as it hits the glass.

Cellbit bites back a whimper. They're so big...

Pac's mouth narrows. He presses the button on his watch and only flinches a little as his gladius pops out of it.

Mike steels himself. He clicks his seat belt off, and he picks his bag up off of the floor and puts it in his lap- ready to run.

Felps, though, smiles wide and turns around in his seat to look at Richarlyson.

"Are you ready to run again?" he asks.

Richarlyson is good at many things, but he's best at running away from his problems (just like everyone else in the car), and the killer spiders are definitely problems.

So Richarlyson nods and clutches his tablet to his chest. He should really leave it behind, but...

"On the count of three," Cellbit tells everybody.

He takes his seat belt off and gets his backpack from the floor by his feet. He checks his boot and lets out a tense breath. Okay. It's there.

"Um," Cellbit says.

The spiders manage to crack the back windshield. Richarlyson gasps and rushes to take his seat belt off.

"Dois."

Pac yanks his seat belt off and grabs the door handle. His eyes flicker between the spiders and Richarlyson and Mike and Cellbit and Felps, though they linger on Felps for just a moment too long to be normal.

(Oh, Pac...)

"Três!"

Cellbit shoves the door open and jumps out of it, pulling his knife from his boot and stabbing it right into the abdomen of the closest spider.

"Wait, you meant on three!?" Pac screeches, tumbling out of the car and swinging his gladius at the nearest group of spiders.

"Yes!" Cellbit snaps. "What did you think I meant?"

He rips the knife out of the spider, panting heavily from both fear and exhilaration. The edges of his vision are red and dripping with blood, but the spider simple crumbles into dust at his hands.

Mike stumbles out of the car, Richarlyson in his arms and his bag on his back.

"I thought you meant after you counted to three!" Pac shouts.

He spins in a neat circle and manages to decapitate two spiders at once. They dissolve, but two more spiders take their places immediately.

Mike takes off down the road towards the hill, grumbling about Richarlyson's weight as he goes. Richarlyson starts talking about Mike's weight in return, and there are spiders.

There are spiders.

Oh fuck.

Knife's effects be damned, Cellbit screams and jerks backwards in sheer terror as a spider scrambles onto his side of the car. He falls onto his ass on the gravel and scoots away, eyes wide. His hands shake and his vision flickers back into something resembling normalcy and he can't breathe- fucking spiders, of course they're spiders! What else would they be? Fucking spiders, of course!

"Cellbit!" Pac cries.

"I've got him," Felps says, finally getting out of the car.

He calmly raises his arms above his head and stretches. As he does so, he walks around the side of the car and crouches by Cellbit's side.

"These things suck," he tells Cellbit, voice so low that Cellbit is convinced that only he can hear it. "Let's just run away."

There's just that smallest hint of magic in his voice, but Cellbit isn't worried about it. No, he's used to it. He's known Felps basically since he ran away, he's more than used to it.

His body stands. Cellbit only comes back to himself as he's approaching the hill, Felps and Pac close behind.

He skids to a stop just in front of the camp borders. He can seen Mike and Richarlyson already safe on the other side, and he can see a group of campers gathered around them and attending to Richarlyson, whose fake tears are convincing enough to get three or so campers to give him all of their flower crowns and chains.

Pac crosses the border and shivers. He immediately runs to Mike's side, clicking his gladius away and taking Richarlyson from him.

Felps stops next to Cellbit.

"Come on," he whispers. "The spiders, man."

Cellbit gulps. He feels all tingly; the statue of the woman stares angrily down at him, furious over his very existence.

A spider hisses, entirely too close to Cellbit for his comfort.

He yelps and rushes across the border, and it feels like his first breath of fresh air in a decade as he does so.

He hates it.

Felps follows, sticking close to Cellbit's side. He smiles and waves politely at the campers staring at the two of them.

Or, well. Staring at the air over Cellbit's head.

One of the campers, a taller boy with messy brown hair and a blue bandana loosely tied around his forehead, looks positively befuddled. Why?

"Don't get any bright ideas," Cellbit warns the campers. "I'm not staying. None of us are."

Richarlyson raises a dejected hand. "Except for me. They're abandoning me..."

He bursts into a fresh round of crocodile tears. Most of the campers coo and gather around him and Pac and Mike; Cellbit watches as Pac steals the watch off of a girl's wrist, and as Mike snags a solid handful of golden rings from several different campers. (Nothing ever changes.)

But the boy with the bandana keeps staring at Cellbit.

Slightly unnerved, Cellbit shuffles closer to Felps, who ignores him and looks up at the statue with his hand acting as a visor over his eyes.

"Oh, look. The Athena Parthenos," he comments. "When did that get here?"

Athena...

He nudges Cellbit in the side with a grin. "Look, Cellbit. It's your mom!"

...What?

"No," Cellbit firmly says, completely ignoring the various puzzle pieces clicking into place in his head. "I don't have a mom. Now, come on, we need to take care of the..."

He trails off as he turns around and sees the gaggle of spiders pressed up against the camp's barrier hissing and quivering and oozing.

His voice trails off into a whisper: "...spiders."

He can't help it. He drops his knife in shock, and, as he does so, an ice-cold needle jams itself into the side of his brain.

Cellbit immediately drops to his knees and scrambles to pick the knife up. He wipes it on his jeans, holds it, looks at it, loves it.

His reflection in the blade is clear. The glowing golden owl symbol floating above his head is even clearer.

"Told you," Felps says.

Cellbit reaches back and smacks his leg. Felps kicks at him. Cellbit smacks him again.

Richarlyson starts crying again. This time, he sounds serious. (He is only six...)

Cellbit sighs and stands, carefully tucking his knife back into his boot as he does so.

As he raises his head, he's met with the boy with the bandana standing only a foot or so away from him with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, "so if you don't want to stay, keep away from the training grounds. The Athena cabin is down there, and I... well, let's just say the head counselor is gonna want to see you."

He winks, and he walks off to join the other campers.

The Athena cabin's head counselor... who? If he's, then... oh, fuck.

Cellbit grabs Felps' arm and looks up at him desperately.

"Kill the spiders," he begs. "Please. We need to get out of here."

Felps pats the back of Cellbit's head reassuringly.

He smiles. "No."

And then he goes to squeeze through the campers to get to Richarlyson, who immediately brightens upon seeing him.

Cellbit looks at the spiders. He looks at the- what did Felps call it?- Athena Parthenos. He looks at the campers.

He looks at the hill as there's a scream from it, a screechy: "What the fuck? Are those spiders?"

The boy with the bandana looks up at the girl on the hill and offers a wave. "Bagi! Hey! I thought you were training?"

"I heard screaming," the girl explains. "I came to help."

She has a sword in one of her hands and a shield in the other. She's gotten her nose pierced in the last ten years. She looks... happy.

Quietly, Cellbit starts backing away. If he can make it into the woods and then run, he might be able to outsmart the spiders before they can catch him.

The girl looks at Richarlyson. She looks at Pac and Mike and Felps.

And then she looks at Cellbit, and she drops her sword.

Yeah, no.

Cellbit turns on his heel, and he books it into the forest.

He hasn't been a demigod in ten years, and he sure as hell isn't going to start again now.

[ikkosu]

Ikko beloved mutual of mine 💚🙏

How do you think Mer Pharma would act with his own little mermaid👀.

compy!! ❤️

gonna use pre delphi pharma bc I'm craving for soft pharma (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Id imagine he met his little mermaid when they were stuck, most of all injured, weaved in trash and plastic bags at a particular region of the ocean. Close to industrial ports. Human ports.

Poor little mermaid went to the surface, pawing away at a duck to save them from the thick oil it's stuck in only for the humans to spot the mer and try to intercept it. They were fast, though, scuttling away as swiftly as they could in the water, not without having a few spears grazing their fins and scales causing their tail to stutter when flapping.

They'd sink and would get trapped among the trashes accumulated, thrashing around until they're to tired too do so and fall limp, giving up.

Pharma had stumbled upon the mer when trying to catch the his meal for today. It scuttled under a pipe and he had been too tired swimming miles for it to claw it out. When he spotted the mer, though, he's appalled at the injured and clicked his tongue, purring with disappointment while carefully untangling the little mer.

As his digits work to loosen the plastic, two soft bright eyes peered up to him, a weak purr rumbling back. His spark writhed a little — the purr was a desperate one. And, so he quickened the pace. They must be hungry.

When he released them, he half expected the little thing to scuttle away. After all, Merformers were far more larger and intimidating than Mermaids, he assumed they'd be frighten of him.

But they didn't. Or, they weren't able to? Mermaid tried to swim but couldn't, their tail flapping with a stutter no matter how hard the tried. Eventually, they latched onto his arm and purred desperately.

He lets out a vent and bundled up the mermaid into his arms, opting to swim into his alcove and tend them for a while. What he didn't expect, however, is how attached he would be to them.

They rub the pidgeon's little heads with their fingers and giggled when they'd flapped back in annoyance. Pharma feels a smidge envious of the animals but that jealousy is shortlived as Mer would scuttle back to where he's curled around one of the rocks and tuck themselves under his chin, arms around his neck.

The little mermaid was playful, a little stubborn but also very compassionate. They would scuttle along his expeditions on recovering Injured sea life and helped bring them along to his alcove where he would tend them.

He notice how well they get along with their aquatic friends, especially the birds when he helped them resurface for fresh air. (he tries not to think about how his servos fit snugly on their waist as he pulled them up)

He gives an annoyed breedle but eventually he reciprocates and would curl his arms around their little body, relishing their warmth.

Seeing their little bright, smiling faces everyday had been a norm and he wondered, if ever they were to be healed — would they leave him?

[motherfuckingmaneater]

What was Bellatrix like after Azkaban? How did it impact her and her relationships?

Anon I have to be honest, I hate fanon interpretation and the more I watch the movies the less I enjoy HBC's interpretation too. Don't get me wrong she's an exceptional actress and I absolutely fell in love with her the moment we saw her on screen but her version of Bellatrix is very very ooc from book canon.

There are some aspects of her I absolutely love from the films, but honestly book Bellatrix is where its at. Now, we don't know what Bellatrix was like pre-Azkaban. We get snippets of her but everything else we get is from Harry's perspective and he thinks her simultaneously repulsive and attractive.

So here's my take on post-Azkaban Bellatrix:

Mentally changed - no, not insane. Not in the way the films showed. I think she was marked criminally insane when she was sentenced to life in Azkaban however the actual meaning of 'criminally insane' is: not being responsible for ones criminal actions because of a mental disorder. She was fully aware of what she was doing and she did it all with pride for the love of her life and likely also because every action she took acted on her own personal beliefs that muggleborns and halfbloods and muggles are below her.

Similarly, a personal headcanon - she is mentally changed because she's been occluding so deeply and for so long. I think her perceptions of reality are slightly distorted, I think her perception of time is completely thrown off and I think this is because she was locked in a cell for 14 years and unable to be with the love of her life who she knew was alive but no one else believed her and she couldn't do anything about it.

I see her physically changed too. I think Azkaban didn't leave her too thin for too long and too ragged looking (like HBC's version with the birds nest hair and disgusting teeth) considering witches have a lovely little thing called magic... and Bellatrix also strikes me as too conceited to let herself look that bad. She was described 'feverish' in the department of mysteries but I personally put this down to bloodlust like a predator finally released from its cage. I think she practiced a lot of wandless dark magic in her cell whether it was rune marking - with her own blood too probably. I don't think she just sat there and rot away. I think she went deep into her magic while she occluded, calling to the stars to keep her love safe and so on.

Relationships:

Rodolphus. I think she missed him. I will forever headcanon they are best friends (who also happen to have very good sex) and they get on like a house on fire but Voldemort was always the one she felt that chemistry and deeper rooted passion with. I think they likely grow closer post-Azkaban.

Narcissa. This one is complicated. I think Narcissa is a little apprehensive of Bellatrix this time around. I think Bellatrix is a lot darker than she remembers, I think Narcissa sees a lot more of Voldemort in her sister and she begins to really resent it. I can imagine however that there's something about her darkness that Narcissa likes...something she can't resist getting close to given she too is a Black.

Voldemort. I think they find their rhythm fairly quickly. I think they spend a lot of time together, even if its just relearning each other. I think he doesn't see her as any different - if anything, he thinks her more beautiful. I think they spend every night together, I imagine her clingy and him for once not minding it. Their passion goes through the roof and I think Voldemort wants to indulge in her again and again for months on end (I mean with canon Delphi, how did that happen? Lots of hot filthy toe curling sex).

Delphini. in which of course I mean my AU where she's trio era. Now this one I think is more complicated. I love to headcanon that Delphini looks a lot like Bellatrix. I like to think Bellatrix finds her hard to look at for exactly that reason. She sees what she used to be in her daughter. I think physically she restrains herself from affection for a long time because she mentally can't take looking at her. However, I think eventually they start to heal and things will go back to normal.

Death Eaters. I don't doubt for one second every single one of them is shit scared of Bellatrix. I think they know her reputation well since pre-Azkaban and now she's even more ruthless they're not for a second going to test her.

Family: she's come out of prison 14 years and everyone she loved in her family (save Narcissa) is dead. That's a lot to wrap your head around. She loses her father, her Aunt, her Uncle (though I do like to HC Orion dies just before she goes to Azkaban) and she and Cissa are the last Blacks.

[theartfuldodger26]

Do you see Tom Riddle as a pretty boy or a handsome man?

Perhaps I'm missing some sort of modern slang as to what each means, but I'll reply literally. Anonymous (or others) feel free to correct/enlighten me if I stray off topic.

I don't see why he can't be both, especially considering that we get to experience young Tom as well as older Volmemort in the books.

He was a pretty, good looking boy when he was younger, and remained a handsome man for a while, until his magical experiment and the Horcrux making caught up with his appearance. I still HC that Bellatrix finds him more attractive in his gaunt, skeletal appearance than before, but that's probably just me.

In the fourth book, while he's still a semi-human creature, before the ritual that gives him back his body, Frank, the gardener of his family estate, demands he turns and "faces him like a man!"

"But I am not a man," Voldemort replies, "I am so much more than a man [but why not, I will face you]"

What Voldemort might have meant with that is up for debate. Perhaps all he means is that he is a man (as in biological male who identifies with the male gender), but he is also so powerful and, to use the expression Voldemort himself loved as a child, so SPECIAL, he's also in a class of human on his own.

Also, later on we find out that he has fathered a daughter, so apparently he does have normal urges that men have. He's not above lust, sex and even maybe being fond of another human (Bellatrix and Delphi).

In addition, when Dumbledore and Harry make it to the cave that Voldemort chose as the hiding place for the Locket Horcrux, we find out that Voldemort values magical power above all, and that HArry's magic, that of a young, average (maybe even a little beyond average), won't even register in his book compared to Dumbledore's. To me this seems to suggest that Voldemort is quite happy to be "old", "mature" and, to his eyes, "wise". And it's not hard to see why he thinks this. He used to be a little boy at the bottom of the social ladder. He might have been "pretty", something that, in older times, was associated with "good families" but he was still an orphan people just ignored or even pitied. Now he's surrounded mostly by younger witches and wizards, and he's their leader.

To sum up until now, I think Voldemort is happy to be a man of a certain age and standing, rather than a boy.

However, he wants to be more than that. He wants to be special, extraordinary. And not just with his deeds, but also with his appearance. He doesnt even want people to speak the name he chose for himself, a name that he likes and is proud of, as it sums up his grandiosity and goal in life (to flee death). Altering his appearance and making it bizarre and unique is also part of this need. By looking like a snake, he's finally special in every way: the way he acts, looks, talks, they're all unique to Lord Voldemort. He's not just a man, any man, he's The Dark Lord.

But I digress. The key for me is a (common, I think) headcanon, where Voldemort suffers from some flavour of body dysmorphia as a young boy. I'm not an expert on the condition, so by no means do I claim to know what I'm saying, just sharing how I feel about him. I think he DOESN'T LIKE BEING ATTRACTIVE, especially after he finds out he looks identical to his father. To some degree he finds his "pretty appearance" useful, since, sad truth be told, we're all inclined to treat a good looking person better and pay more attention to them, and in his early days of near starvation and abuse this was useful. But he hates it, deep down, as he hates everything about himself from those days.

Not only that, but he actually doesn't find himself attractive. He thinks he's too pale, his hair annoys him because it's too curly and needs some work in order to look presentable, his cheekbones are too high, he's too thin and boney, and the list goes on and on with things only he finds weird and unattractive. All part of his deep-seated self loathing that is in the root of all his actions, covered up with illusions f grandeur.

And so he sheds every bit of his old appearance that's possible to change, from his eye colour to the shape of his nose. In fact, now I think of it, in Goblet of Fire he says he'll be "Settling for his old body for a while", suggesting he's planning on further transformations in the future, when he has more time with Harry dead.

TLDR: to us, semi-biased readers, he's both. In his own eyes, he's neither.

Also this gave me an idea for a minific, so I may post a drabble at some point, inspired by this.

Thank you, Anon, for an interesting question that made me think and allowed me to put some ideas in order. And that it sparked a fic! ;)

[blue--ingenue]

"As You're Told"

Author's Note: i'm hitting our boys with the steel chair in this one. tw for violence i'm so sorry y'all

Read on ao3

His lungs heaved and his legs burned, but he couldn’t stop running. Somewhere in their terrified scramble to dodge Delphi’s hexes he’d lost sight of Albus. The name was at the tip of his tongue, but calling out into the darkness could land him right back at square one. The electrified ropes binding his wrists together flashed and crackled with each slight movement. Despite the searing pain, they were his only light source as he thrust his bonds into the shadows, searching for movement. He wanted to cry. He could feel fat tears burning at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t dare let them fall. 

Albus. He had to find Albus. They’d taken advantage of Delphi’s momentary distraction as Craig - . His breath caught. Craig’s body had hit the ground, and as she stood above him, admiring her work, they’d made a run for it. The Forbidden Forest had been the closest source of cover, and so they sprinted into the shadows. A flicker of regret whispered at the back of his mind, telling him it’d been a mistake. At least when they were on the pitch, they were together. Now, Albus could be anywhere, so could she. What if she’d already found him? What if - 

No. He couldn’t let himself think of what Delphi would do if she got her hands on Albus again. He pushed it all to the back of his mind. All thoughts of Craig’s empty husk hitting the ground, Albus begging for Scorpius to be left alone - anything except the directive to find Albus was pushed away.

————

Albus was tired of running. Despite the cocktail of fear and guilt burning through his veins with each exhausted heartbeat, he was enraged. He didn’t think Scorpius was capable of making sounds like the ones forced from his lips as she tortured him. He knew he’d never forget them. Albus wasn’t sure who he hated more at the moment: her, for torturing Scorpius, or himself for putting them in this mess and being powerless to stop her. For now it didn’t matter. He just needed to find Scorpius. Then he could spend the rest of his life trying to make things better. But for now -

A branch snapped behind him. It was the only warning he had before he found himself pinned against a tree. It felt as though a weight was bearing down on his chest, pressing him against the rough bark and making it difficult to draw in a full breath. He struggled against it, but the force only pushed harder.

“You should’ve heard him scream,” a voice lilted from behind him. Albus froze, ears straining to anticipate where she was approaching from.

“I suppose you already have, but those were nothing compared to the sounds he made before I found you.” Delphi’s voice seemed to come from everywhere all at once. “Albus please! Albus, help me!” she crooned. She whipped from around the tree and took his face in her hands. Her nails dug into his skin and he thrashed his head from her grip. Delphi tutted, disappointed, before she thrust a fist into his curls and slammed his head against the tree. Hard.

His world shook with the force of the impact and he saw stars as she released his head. He cried out as he lifted his head. The world around him was soupy and slow. He was hearing everything from underwater, and he duly registered the back of his head was damp where it had struck the tree. The world shifted and slowly coalesced to form a single figure in front of him. Delphi.

“He’s got some fight in him, your little loverboy,” she spat. “I’ve never seen anyone last that long under the cruciatus curse. He was begging for you, you know. Begging for you to help him. And where were you, Albus? In the end, it was practically a mercy killing.”

He looked her in the eyes. Took in her smug grin, teeth bared like a wolf merely playing with its food. “You’re…you’re lying,” he croaked. She had to be. Scorpius couldn’t be- . It wasn’t possible.

The mask fell from her face. “Would it matter if I was? He’ll be dead soon, anyway, if you don’t do as you’re told.”

  For the first time that night, Albus’ defiance wavered. He couldn’t imagine a world without Scorpius in it. Couldn’t fathom it. Maybe he could buy them time? Pretend to go along with her plan, just until someone found them, or they figured something else out. She seemed to read his mind.

“I still don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” she whispered into his ear. Albus hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. She pointed her wand at his throat and hissed, “But you will. Imperio.”

Everything fell away and Albus was floating. There was a fog inside his head that chased away the pain and promised that everything would be alright as long as he listened. It was all so easy! He felt the burning ropes dissipate from around his wrists and sighed. The fog was safe. It was warm. It promised everything would be okay. He saw Delphi moving at the corner of his vision, but paid her no mind. Nothing would hurt him, and he was perfectly content to let the fog envelop him until he received his instructions. Delphi concealed herself behind a copse of trees a few meters away.

Call out for him, her voice whispered. He obeyed. It felt good to call out Scorpius’ name, knowing that his best friend would soon emerge and they’d be together again. What a wonderful suggestion. Do it again, and sound scared, came the next order.

Albus didn’t understand why he needed to sound scared, but he didn’t anyway. He just wanted Scorpius to be here. What did it matter what his voice sounded like? Just moments later a figure crashed through the trees, all lanky limbs and soft hair, moonlight-white. Scorpius.

Go to him, the voice coaxed. Albus ran forward, holding his friend by the elbows and gazing at his dirt-streaked face. Even now he was the most beautiful thing Albus had ever seen. A ripple of disgust rolled through the fog in his head, and Albus frowned. Scorpius was saying something, concern etched along his forehead. Albus tilted his head, confused yet intrigued. He wanted to listen to Scorpius, but the voice demanded his attention. Hold his face in your hands, it urged. Be gentle.

This was his favorite instruction by far. Albus placed one hand at the back of his neck, and let the other gently cup his cheek beneath a fresh-blooming cut. Whatever Scorpius had been saying seemed to fall away. He was gaping at Albus, lips parted in shock and brow furrowed in confusion. He rubbed a thumb soothingly against Scorpius’ cheek and threaded his fingers though the soft locks at his nape. “Albus?” he breathed.

The voice’s next instructions were crisp and clear. Put your hands around his throat and squeeze. 

His fingers twitched, but remained in place. Hurt Scorpius? He couldn’t do that. It went against every fiber of his being. Scorpius should never be in pain. Never.

The fog didn’t like that. The voice reared back, and he felt the instructions rattle through his skull: Obey!

Albus’ hands shot out of their own accord and he felt his brain cleave in two. It was as though he were watching someone else entirely. He fought and raged against his own body, but could only watch as the rest of him obeyed the voice. His hands were wrapped around Scorpius’ neck. Hands came up to pry them away, but they were still bound and did nothing more than paw at Albus’ unforgiving grip. Scorpius looked more frightened than Albus had ever seen him. His eyes were blown wide open, cheeks flushed and mouth agape in a desperate bid for air. 

He scrabbled uselessly against Albus’ hold, lips moving in a silent plea for him to stop. A horrible rattling wheeze punctuated each fruitless attempt to prise the fingers choking the life out of him. Albus could feel his pulse jackrabbiting against his palms, frantic and terrified and slowing, slowing, slowing…

Scorpius grew heavier in his grip, and he followed him down as he sunk to the earth. The corners of his eyes were crinkled in pain, lashes fluttering as his eyes slipped closed. His lips were tinged blue. Why were they blue? Scorpius’ lips were always pink. So perfectly pink.

Albus hadn’t noticed he’d been kicking his legs until Scorpius went still beneath him. Fledgling gasps died in his throat as he grew limp. Horrible whines and choked-off whimpers petered out. His bound hands fell away. Soft grey eyes pleaded a silent question, Why?, as a single tear escaped his fluttering eyelids. His eyes rolled back and he convulsed once, twice, and lay still. Completely still.

And still Albus held him, hands wrapped in an iron grip.

The air rushed out of him in one fell swoop, and it took the fog with it. Albus, in shock at the sudden change, remained frozen. Understanding hit him all at once and he pulled his hands away. A sound tore through his throat, half sob and half scream. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees and pulled Scorpius into his arms. He lay still.

“Scorpius?! Scorpius please!” he wailed. He pressed a trembling hand to his too-pale neck, but was shaking too frantically to find a pulse. He recoiled, gasping in horrified, snatched gasps as the moonlight illuminated the angry bruises ringed around his best friend’s neck. Albus swallowed down a sob and pressed an ear to his chest, holding his breath. The silence dragged on. Scorpius lay still. The wind whistled, leaves rustled, and Albus’ world collapsed. And then - 

There. A weak thump. And then another. “Scorpius,” he sobbed brokenly. “Scorpius please, I’m sorry!” He cradled him in his arms, hands frantically brushing soft strands of blond hair from his deathly pale face. “Please come back!” he wailed. The air shifted behind him.

“Remember this. Next time, he won’t come back. Remember this feeling, and do exactly. As. You. Are. Told.”

Albus was confused, barely registering her words through his grief and terror. He barely heard her whisper rennervate before Scorpius was coughing and spluttering in his arms. Tears of relief blurred his vision, but when he blinked them away, Scorpius looked terrified. The blue tinge was fading from his lips, but as Albus watched he twisted himself from his grip. Albus couldn’t bear the look on Scorpius’ face. He reached out a hand to comfort him, but he flinched violently away, curling in on himself. His gaze flicked between Delphi and Albus like a frightened animal caught in a trap.

Albus felt something give within him. He didn’t even react as Delphi recast the burning ropes around his wrists. As she ordered them to march back toward the quidditch pitch, time turner in hand, he saw Scorpius inch toward him ever-so-slightly. Almost imperceptible, but it was there. Their gazes met, and he could tell that Scorpius understood. He seemed to understand Delphi had used the Imperius curse. Scorpius leveled him with a look of understanding, of forgiveness. Albus looked away, guilty. He would never forgive himself.

[duchesschameleon]

five (a Delphi Racing fic)

a percy jackson x formula 1 fic

pairing: percy jackson x annabeth chase

rating: t for teen

warnings: alcohol mention

read this fic on ao3

Percy lets out a shaky breath, foot bouncing on the floor.

One more race. Thats all thats left of this season, all that’s left for him to win a championship. One more race to beat Jason and solidify his place in history.

“Hey,” a voice calls out, pulling Percy out of his head. “You okay there?”

He looks up, sees the familiar face of Annabeth Chase, the head engineer and car designer for Delphi Racing popping into his room.

“I’m good. Just. Last race. Last chance to win this thing for you.”

Annabeth steps further into his driver room, smiles softly at him. “Win it for yourself, Seaweed Brain. Double points finish should wrap up the constructors championship for us. If my math is right, Jupiter Motors needs a 1-2 finish to beat us on that front. And that’s not happening, because I’ve got the best driver on the grid in my car.”

Percy smirks at her, sitting up a little straighter. “Best driver on the grid, huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him, faking exasperation. “I’m not saying it again. Not until you win this race.”

“Got it, Wise Girl. Win from pole and make it a grand slam?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I think that’s the Plan Alpha Grover has for you, if I heard the briefing correctly.”

Percy barks out a laugh, his nerves calmed by Annabeth’s presence, the way they always are.

“Thanks, Annabeth,” he says, standing up and taking her hand. “Guess I have a championship to win now.”

“Anytime, Percy,” she replies, squeezing his hand. “Go win your fifth championship, bring it home.”

——

He brings it home. Wins from pole, fighting off Jason Grace with all he’s got and manages to snag a fastest lap to complete the grand slam he promised Annabeth.

It’s a close race, the gap to Jason never bigger than 10 seconds, and the two swap positions the whole race. It’s a hard fought win, but it’s a win. His fifth world drivers championship in a row and Delphi Racing’s fifth constructors championship in a row.

It’s a new record, and one Percy already wants to beat next year.

“That’s P1 Percy Jackson! You are the world champion, and you sealed the deal with a grand slam!” Grover says through the radio, his excitement palpable.

“Holy shit, holy shit we did it!!” Percy says back to his race engineer. “Thank you so much, everyone! Couldn’t have done it without you, Grover and everyone in the garage!!! Holy shit!!”

“Congrats, Seaweed Brain!! That’s a fifth world championship! I’m so proud of you, everyone here is.” It’s Annabeth’s voice on the radio this time, her smile evident in her excitement.

“Thanks for the amazing car, Wise Girl,” he responds. “Tell me we got the constructors championship too?”

“We got it, you and Will both got on the podium. P3 for Will, he held off Zhang amazingly. I’ll see you on the podium, you’ve got some burnouts to do.”

“It’s a date.”

His radio clicks silent and Percy sticks a hand out of his car and signals to Jason Grace and Will Solace that they’ve been given the go-ahead for burnouts. He gets two thumbs up in response and immediately turns his car while hitting the break. Smoke goes up around him and he giggles, despite being a fully grown man. He giggles because he’s doing burnouts once again as the world champion and it’s the best feeling to have won this way, to have fought the whole season and have an actual competitor this year. He’s got no doubt in his mind Jason will be the one on the top step next year, Jupiter really challenged them and he’s a strong driver.

But not strong enough this year. This year, it’s Percy on top again. Percy who gets to walk out last and stand on that top step of the podium with Annabeth on the constructors podium.

They hear their anthems play, a sense of pride for both of them, and Percy stand straighter than he ever has in his life, still can’t believe he pulled off this Herculean task, but it’s real. It’s real, and his mom is in the crowd, crying happy tears as she holds his sister and leans into Paul, and his dad isn’t far away, eyes also wet with tears. It’s real and Annabeth is right there, just out of reach on her own podium, but looking at him with eyes full of pride and love.

And then it’s time for the champagne.

The anthems end and Percy can see Will putting down his trophy, switching it out for the champagne bottle at his feet that he starts to shake before slamming it on the ground, causing an eruption of champagne to flow out.

Percy grabs his own bottle, aiming the spray at his teammate as he gets doused from all sides, Annabeth joining the fray as well.

Jason’s good naturedly spraying all three members of the Delphi Racing team, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, but Percy knows from the cool down room that Jason had done everything he could, Percy was just better this race. So Jason sprays them, celebrates his P2 finish in the race and championship standings, having just edged out Will over the season.

Percy’s pulled out of his head by a shower of champagne down his back, Annabeth’s laughter right in his ear as she upends her bottle down the back of his race suit.

“Oh it’s on, Chase,” he says, shaking his bottle a little more before dumping it over her head, saturating her blonde curls in champagne.

“Percy!” she squeals, sputtering as the champagne runs down her face. “Oh my god, I’m gonna look crazy for the photos now.”

“You still look fine, you used waterproof makeup earlier,” he reminds her, arms slowly wrapping around her. “Now, I believe you owe me something,” he says, lips turning up into a smirk.

Annabeth rolls her eyes at his dramatic approach, but lets herself be tugged closer to Percy. “You’ve certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain,” she says, reaching to cup Percy’s cheek in her hand.

He can’t even think of anything to say in response, so he just crashes his lips onto hers, fulfilling a promise made at the start of the season.

“Win another championship for me, and the I’ll kiss you on the podium Seaweed Brain,” was the ultimatum Annabeth gave him during the first race weekend, when Percy whined about another season of keeping their relationship under wraps. And win he did.

It’s not their best kiss, Percy pressing hard into Annabeth, gripping her to him as they balance on the podium together, nearly empty bottles of champagne in hand, most of the liquid sprayed on the ground around them or clinging to their clothes.

No, it’s not the late night or early morning kisses shared on the beach, a kiss shared in his driver room before a race, or one behind their motorhome afterwards. It’s not filled with finesse, but it’s special because it’s one that tastes like champagne and winning and not hiding anymore. After six years, Percy can kiss Annabeth in public on purpose and not worry about the repercussions.

“Spray the lovebirds! They need to cool off!” Percy hears Will yell, feels the champagne spraying him. He wraps his arms more securely around Annabeth, poorly attempting to shield her from the onslaught of champagne.

“Took you long enough, Jackson!” Jason yells from the other side, also spraying them.

“Oh come on!” he protests, glaring at Jason over Annabeth’s shpulder. “We had our reasons!”

“Yeah, and yet almost the entire grid knew anyways! Worst kept secret,” Will throws back.

“And yet, you all helped us keep it from anyone outside of the grid. I’d say best kept secret,” Annabeth retorts, raising an eyebrow at her other driver.

“Touché.”

“And now the secrets out,” Percy murmurs to Annabeth, drawing her attention back to him.

“Secrets out,” she confirms, smiling up at him, grey eyes sparkling. “What are you gonna do about it, Jackson?”

He doesn’t respond this time, just drops his champagne bottle to more firmly wrap his arms around Annabeth, hands splayed across her back as he pulls her in again and kisses her. Their lips pressed together, he dips her, arching her back as he smiles against her lips, the happiest he’s ever been.

Percy lets out a breath when he pulls back, this one steady when hours before it had been shaky. He smiles down at Annabeth, presses one more quick kiss to her lips before standing her up straight again.

He’s a five-time world champion. His team are five-time constructors champions. He’s dating the woman he’s had a crush on for longer than he probably realized and got to kiss her on the podium under a champagne shower. He’s got a pretty good life.

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hiiii can you do a Leo fic where the reader is a cyborg (like Bucky) and he helps them fix things and stuff. I know it’s so random and kinda weird but I think that he would be head over heels for them

I love this idea sm <3, the headcanons just got a bit random because I wanted to include some different disabilities for it to be more inclusive and stuff, hope you enjoy! [also it was so hard to find a header for this so you get this lol]

mechanic=lover ---Leo V x Disabled reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-It didn’t really matter what kind of prosthetic you had.

-Leo would still be able to run up behind you and hug you, his chin on your shoulder with that stupid little grin of his that you had to kiss off his face a lot of the time

–he didn’t mind if had to wobble around while you walked to Bunker 9 or back to your cabin, or if you were in bed every second day with chronic pain, no hugs allowed. He’d still hold your hand while he led you down the path, or sit on the end of your bed fiddling with his latest gadgets. 

-Maybe it was that pair of glasses for you that brought color into black and white seeing eyes, or another hand with little suction cups on the palm so you could pick up the hot chocolate Piper made without forgetting to close your metal fingers. 

-It’s no secret Leo had insecurities, and being useless to people was a big one of those. Luckily you eased that for him without even realizing. He could be hugging you, or pressing kisses to your collarbone, or maybe just sitting next to you at breakfast [you had a note, don’t worry] and he could always be helping you. Improving your life one bolt or mechanical attachment at a time.

-Once he even built a speaker into your prosthetic arm, with a little panel to choose songs on Spotify where a watch would sit. That one was scrapped once Jason found out he could listen to Taylor Swift all the time with voice activation.

-You were like a grounding base for Leo, no matter what stupid or clever [most of the time it was both] ting he was doing, how far away he was, he could find you again. 

-You don’t know how many times you’d be in the arts and crafts center, or out in the strawberry fields carrying boxes for the Demeter kids, and just hear the quick footsteps behind you. 

-Then Leo would bounce up and wrap his arms around you, smelling like sawdust and that cinnamon candle Nyssa liked to light in their cabin. You’d kiss him on the forehead and he’d take a berry from the Delphi Strawberry Farms crate or tip some glitter onto your project.

-Even if he messed it up, it was still from the heart. Because holy shit he loved you way too much <3

»»————-　★　————-««

[decepti-thots]

do you know when in the timeline the wreckers trilogy happens? because i know its post war but other than that i dont really know when its supposed to happen, but mainly because i want to know if prowl was brainwashed before or after sotw

LSotW (as in, the 'present day' stuff) takes place right at the end of the war. And I mean the very end; the presence of Verity, who by the time post-war comics are happening will only be a couple years older than she is here, means it must be JUST before the war ends, I think. Fortress Maximus then gets sent to Delphi, the war ends between that and the start of MTMTE, so that all works out.

Sins, meanwhile, is slightly trickier to precisely place. Prowl's broken eyesocket helps us place it after Combiner Wars from page one. So not only is it post-brainwashing, it's post-Prowl fucking up his life in the aftermath of said brainwashing; he is, theoretically, already a fugitive by the time Sins starts. By all accounts, this was not on purpose, which is why it can feel kind of confusing to place I think. There were behind the scenes delays that led to it coming out after CW when it was originally supposed to finish before CW, and since in phases two and three the editorial decision was made that comics would now take place roughly in "real time", some things about the final comic were fiddled with so it would be definitively a post-CW story. So SotW is a little bit weird. Officially, it's nebulously after Combiner Wars; in terms of how it's written and how much it matches up to that, try not to think too hard, is my advice, lol. (That's comics for you!) I personally would prefer to quietly ignore this, because it makes zero fucking sense they let Prowl go post-Combiner Wars, but there you are.

Wrequiem then takes place around two years after Sins, canonically. (Again, roughly a kind of 'real time' progression was largely being observed in latter IDW1 stuff, and there was a gap of a couple years.) Kup's been dead a while, which happened in Visionaries. I would say this is the last bit of the canon before you go into both the LL finale and Unicron/exRiD finale personally. So right before Unicron happens, in terms of what's going on with Earth.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 18)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse (dub-con), discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

Part 17

Rosanna is no longer in her bed, or even in her house. The surface beneath her is hard and unbearably cold, but she doesn’t dare move.

“I’m going to finish preparing the room. Bring her once she’s up.” A voice echos off the walls.

“She’s bleeding everywhere.” Another voice, this one she knows.

“Come on, Goyle, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dirty blood.” The door clicks shut and Rosanna is dragged upright.

Forcing her eyes open, Rosanna finds herself face to face with Gregory Goyle, Draco’s childhood friend. They’d grown up together, he spent countless hours in her house, he held her children.

He-

Rosanna rears back, slamming her forehead against his hard enough to make him stumble away.

“Damn you,” he whispers. “More trouble than you’re worth, McVay. I’ll never understand what Draco sees in you…besides himself.”

She claws at him this time, like she means to gouge his eyes out.

“Come on, it’s just a joke. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me how?” She whispers.

“Got a plan, don’t bugger it.” He hauls her to her feet, fingertips digging into the flesh of her upper arm.

Goyle leads her through the door, to the adjoining room. Mostly empty, save for an array of lit candles, a circle, a rope, and a knife.

“Welcome! So kind of you to join us.” Theodore? Theodore Nott? “I suppose introductions are in order, it has been a while.”

“I know who you are.” Rosanna jerks her arm free of Goyle.

“Wonderful, that saves time.” Theodore grins, “you may be wondering why you’re here…unless you already know that as well?” He cocks his head to the side. “Must be why you and Granger get on so well, two peas in a pod. Although they couldn’t make you the minister, with a death eater’s cock shoved up inside you, could they? No, there has to be consequences for that. Though clearly they’re not opposed to using you when it benefits them.”

Rosanna glares. Don’t let him get in your head.

“It was almost too easy to distract you, with the files, and Delphi, then Rabastan. You just couldn’t keep your head on straight.” Nott muses, quite pleased with himself.

“How’d you get the files?” Rosanna wonders.

“I surely don’t have access to such sensitive information within the ministry. We don’t all get golden girl privileges. Some of us had to atone for our sins, some of our fathers went to Azkaban for life. Some of us got tossed away like we were nothing. I don’t think that’s fair, so I decided to do something about it, the imperius curse came in handy. I know you’re familiar.” Theodore begins pacing in the circle, drawn on the floor in what Rosanna assumes to be blood.

“Just kill me then and be done with it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that there is a reason great wizards throw themselves at you?” Everyone from Harry Potter to Lord Voldemort. “That you are, in some way, exceptional. A conduit for magic. Had you not chosen to spend your life with someone who does not value it, you would know that. Draco keeps it locked inside you, wasting away, but I can fix it. I can teach you how to use that power, I can make you the greatest witch whoever lived. In return, you will serve me. Reduce the world to ash and rebuild, as it should be.”

“No thanks,” Rosanna shrugs. If she can just stall long enough for Goyle’s plan to take action, or even to figure out what the circle is for…

“I wasn’t asking.” Theodore purses his lips. “There is one matter that must be attended before we proceed in making you mine.”

Rosanna narrows her eyes, daring him to go on.

“I bare no relation to the Malfoy family. Therefore what is bound, must be unbound. Let’s bring him out. The man of the hour, here to save you.” Theo drags Draco into the room, feet bloodied, his pajamas torn.

“Leave her alone.” Draco seethes, hands behind his back, magic knitting them together.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Nott taunts, pushing Draco to the ground, just outside the circle. “Got a bit of a mouth on her, but that can be fixed.”

The floor quakes beneath them, rumbling as though it might break away.

“Was that you?” Theodore laughs, his eyes flickering to Rosanna, a vision in her silk golden nightgown, dripping in her own blood. “You are a pistol, aren’t you?”

“Let her go.” Draco fires this time, but the magic is unhinged, no way to direct it.

“You know this is even better than I imagined! Your magic is bound to Draco, who doesn’t have a clue how to use it. Bravo, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, you’ve outdone yourselves. Now if you’ll just keep doing exactly what you are doing, this circle has all the enchantments we need to untangle your magic.”

Rosanna swipes a hand over her face, smearing the blood beneath her nose. Without a word, she looks to Goyle. What’s the plan?

“What’s the matter, dove?” Nott calls her attention. “Not in the mood? That’s alright, I’ll inspire you. Crucio!”

Draco writhes, howling in pain.

“Stop.” Rosanna takes a step forward, only to realize that she can’t move outside the circle.

“I’m just getting started.” Nott grins.

“Stop!”

“No.” Theodore growls, hitting Draco with the cruciatus curse a second time.

She feels the wall, between the magic she has access to and what lies beyond. She doesn’t run at it head first, that doesn’t work, because the wall is Draco’s. Not her own.

But she knows his mind…

“I was never truly happy until I met you.”

She knows his heart…

“You have always been and will always be the deepest, most desperate desire of my heart.”

And she knows his soul…

"There is no me without you, keeping you alive is as self preserving as it gets."

Using her magic to save him isn’t dangerous, it’s self preservation, and there is nothing Draco wants more than to keep her safe.

The windows shatter, the door comes away from its hinges. She’s vaguely aware of the fact that Goyle is yelling. Tossing his wand to the floor near Draco.

Rosanna can’t make out what he’s saying over the ringing in her ears. The magic courses through her now, consuming her and she sees red. There’s not a spell in the world that will be punishment enough for what Nott has done.

He used the imperius curse to leak Draco’s file from the ministry.

Crucio. No, that isn’t enough.

He tried to recruit Delphi to do his dirty work.

Reducto. No.

He used Rabastan and his sick obsession to distract them.

Avada Kedavra.

He came into their home.

Avada Kedavra.

He hurt Draco.

Avada Kedavra.

They need him alive, at least for a while, to make sure this ends with him.

And so Rosanna thinks of the spell, one that will kill him agonizingly slow, if no one intervenes.

“Sectum Sempra.”

Theodore’s skin flays open, much faster than Draco’s had all those years before, when Harry struck him the lavatory. Down to the muscle, in no time.

Someone is screaming.

Telling her to stop.

But she can’t stop.

She doesn’t want to stop.

Goyle isn’t beside her anymore, he’s moved away. Blown back against the wall. Did she do that?

“Rosanna, stop!” Hermione? Hermione is there and telling her to stop, pleading with tears in her eyes.

“Why do you care about him? He tried to-”

“I don’t! I don’t care about him!” Hermione shouts back, “I care about you!”

Rosanna draws back. Taking in the scene before her. Draco is there, on the floor, twitching with the after effects of the cruciatus curse. How long was Nott torturing him? How long has she been flaying Theodore open?

Harry is over Nott now, assessing the damage. It’s bad. Even with the counter spell, he isn’t sure he’ll live. Not that it matters, but they can’t try a dead man.

Help Draco, save Draco. Rosanna’s head is pounding furiously, as she collapses at his side.“Draco?”

Draco curls himself around her, lips quirked with the hint of a smile. “Do you know the worst part about all of this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your magic listens to me as well as you do. Rarely, if ever.” He clarifies, “perhaps never at all.”

Rosanna chokes out laugh, “I listen to you. This is self preservation, just like you said.”

“This is not what I meant.” There’s blood, too much blood, staining her golden nightgown crimson. Her eyes have no whites to them, all broken blood vessels and blown pupils, threatening to swallow her brown irises. “This was foolish, highly irresponsible-”

Rosanna’s lips are on his then, silencing any further ranting. “I will always take care of you, Draco. No matter how foolish or irresponsible that makes me or how mad you get, I will never let anyone hurt you. My only regret is that I couldn’t do it sooner. I wish I could go back and stop anyone from ever hurting you.”

Draco’s eyes search her face, “we need to get you to a healer.”

Rosanna doesn’t fight him on that. “My brain is on fire.” She feels it now.

————————————————————————

Six days later, under the florescent lights of St. Mungos hospital, Rosanna wakes. She turns and vomits onto the floor, rousing the man in the chair beside her.

Draco.

Draco.

Draco.

“I’ll get you some water.” He says, casting a quick cleansing spell over Rosanna and the floor.

There’s nothing to do but wait. Eventually he returns, cup in hand.

“Thank you.”

Draco gives a curt nod.

“You’re pissed at me.” Rosanna accepts the offering, chugging it down.

“I…” Draco chokes out. “I am beyond angry. I am beside myself with worry for you.”

“Draco, I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he warns, “don’t you dare apologize to me. You’re not sorry, you told me you’d do it again!”

“Come here,” Rosanna insists, grabbing his arms and tugging him onto the cot with her. His shoulders are shaking, the entire length of him rigid. As though he’ll break if he softens. “I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry to worry you, I’m sorry that I upset you. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

The dam breaks and Draco sobs, unabashedly against the crook of her neck. “Please, Rosanna, I am begging you, please don’t do this to me again.”

“I love you.” She continues feebly, “I love you so much and when I saw you…when I saw him hurting you, I lost control. But I’ll learn to reign it in. I’ll learn, I promise. Give me time and I’ll-”

Draco says nothing.

“It’s like you said, to my bones I am yours. I mean that. Do what you want with me. Take my magic, hide me away, keep me to yourself, if that is what you need. I’ll never complain. I have caused you so much heartache, let me give you peace.”

“The only thing I want is a long life with you, quit trying to rob me of it.” Draco breathes, allowing her fingers to card his hair.

“I owe you more than that.” The words to hang between them for a moment before Rosanna amends her statement. “I want to give you more than that. I want to give you everything.” I want to be your solace. I want to give back a fraction of what you’ve given me. “I want to fix this.”

Draco draws back slightly, his forearms on either side of her head, caging her in. Keeping her safe. “Sweetheart, this isn’t broken. It’s ours. You are mine and I am yours. It can never be broken.”

Rosanna nods, tears slipping from her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Ro. I’m tired of making you cry.” His thumbs skate over her cheeks, drawing the moisture away.

————————————————————————

Their friends and family trickle in and out of the hospital, until they are released a few days later.

Even Goyle comes to visit, after they’ve returned home, to some sense of normalcy. “You buggered it,” is all he has to say to his friend’s wife. “I’d been working on Nott for weeks, earning his trust, I even tipped off Draco and Potter. I had it under control. Then you fucked the whole plan right up the arse, put me through a wall, for no bloody reason.”

“Any plan that includes my husband being tortured is a shit plan.” Rosanna cocks her head to the side.

“Would’ve spared you the brain damage.” Goyle says, bitterly. He’s never been particularly fond of Rosanna, but he doesn’t wish her dead.

“She doesn’t have brain damage.” Draco snarls, “I had them check a dozen times, her scans are normal.” He’s struck a nerve.

Rosanna puts a hand over his, squeezing lightly. “I had a brain bleed and some swelling, the only thing affected is my short term memory. But the healer is hopeful that even that is temporary.”

Draco’s fingers twitch beneath hers. “Talk about something else.”

So they do.

Part 19

[oraculate]

whops im a little late sorry but here i (dove, s/h, certified hag) am and more importantly, here's ko lijae, your local fuckin weirdo. surprise surprise though, she's not just a pill popping drunk, she's also impulsive to a fault, an adrenaline junkie with a death wish, and an obsessive nightmare. she's giving oracle at delphi, or she would be if you romanticized it, but it's kind of hard to romanticize someone who very clearly does not have their life even close to together and is letting that show in a way that distinctly bucks social norms. but hey, who has time for social norms when you're touched by the gods, amirite? i'm more than thrilled to be here, haven't written in a hot minute so be gentle, but her pages are here: profile / bio / connections and there's a little bit more under the cut, msg for discord!

i'm not sure what to put that isn't already on the pages so here's a little mindless rambling for you in case something resonates.

ko lijae has premonitions, visions, etc.

her family is historically shamanic and has been for centuries, passed down from woman to woman as is oft the case.

now, granted, they're lowkey scammers so at least in very recent memory "real" visions and so forth are not a thing.

not to mention traditionally in muism shamans are more focused on connection to the spirit world/those who have passed so she's not exactly on brand religiously....

so needless to say the thought process in the ko household was 'yikes'.

and if it had been truly just an expression of mental health concerns she'd have been fucked because if there's one thing the ko family does not believe in its talk therapy or mood stabilizers etc.

as a kid she found a certain idea of solace in the idea that she was probably just experiencing sinbyeong or 'shamanic sickness' (recognized as a culture bound syndrome in the DMCA) that many soon-to-be shamans go through before they are fully initiated, often that are accompanied by reported auditory and visual hallucinations.

at this point in her life she's not sure she buys into the shaman thing fully, she's come to acknowledge her grandmother as a fake, but she also grapples with the idea that there's definitely something going on with her and it's certainly not purely based on mental unrest (though she's more than happy to admit there's a deal of that going on at this point) so a part of her at least wants to attribute it to something somewhat explainable, and figures it must have some kind of genetic component that could be related to how her family ended up shamans in the first place.

in the evolutionary game of fight or flight lijae has chosen a resounding: both. she'll fight you and she'll run from herself.

a lot of that running is done via chemicals of whatever type she can get her hands on, resulting in a chain smoking habit and alcoholism.

she has an exceptionally devil may care attitude, sharp tongue (mostly at her own expense) and a deep and feral loyalty to the few people who stick by her.

honestly she gives feral cat energy, like she might gnaw her paw off if she got caught in a trap and god help you if you corner her, but if you hang around patiently enough maybe eventually she'll come around. but she's got fleas and half an ear is missing and there's scars all around her muzzle so is it worth the time? maybe not.

anyway if you've got any sort of ideas about how this weirdo might be able to round out a plot for you either with or without the inclusion of her '''''gifts''''' i'm all ears!

[themculibrary]

Yondu Masterlist

ain’t no river wide enough (ao3) - xahra99 T, 10k

Summary: “It’s okay to be afraid. But don’t ever let fear stop ya from doin’ what ya think ya gotta.” Peter and Yondu head down planetside for some Ravager-style life lessons. Unsurprisingly, things don’t go to plan. Set before the first movie. One-shot. Complete.

ain’t no road just like it (ao3) - xahra99 G, 3k

Summary: “Don’ t see why you’re so bothered. Not like he’s your kid.” Kraglin and Yondu argue over Quill, or, how Kraglin ends up with the Zune Yondu bought for Peter. Set between the first and second movies. Gen. Complete.

base of support (ao3) - interabang T, 3k

Summary: The Guardians discover that Yondu would do anything (when he feels like it) to give Peter help when he needs it.

celestial aegis (ao3) - Jastra T, 6k

Summary: During a skirmish between Ravagers and rivaling pirate group, young Peter gets grabbed by the enemy leader. Yondu shows the pirates what happens when someone dares to hurt his boy.

father figure (ao3) - laylabinx T, 27k

Summary: Five times Yondu maybe, kinda, sorta, almost claimed Peter as a son and one time he totally did. Nothing too intense, just a little Yondu/Peter father-ish/son-ish bonding-ish. Almost entirely pre-movie.

fox on the run (ao3) - Sholio T, 13k

Summary: When bounty hunters get the drop on Yondu, 11-year-old Peter is the only person in a position to do anything about it.

go for the throat (ao3) - laylabinx T, 9k

Summary: Peter finds out the hard way what it means to be the Ravager mascot and Yondu uses this as an opportunity to teach him how to kick someone’s ass.

Highway To Hell (ao3) - MeganBStrange T, 49k

Summary: Yondu dies in the arms of his son, and wakes up with a second chance.

Yondu's gonna try and do better this time, but lets face it he's still gonna fuck it up. It's the thought that counts.

i got a landmine in my bloodline (ao3) - laylabinx T, 23k

Summary: Peter develops appendicitis. Yondu develops a heart. It’s all very problematic.

peter quill and the (mostly) terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (ao3) - rohanrider3 Rating: Teen And Up

Summary: In which Ego is a jackass, Yondu gets (temporarily) mind-controlled, Peter survives an insane amount of insanity in a short period of time, it isn’t wise to (SIMULTANEOUSLY) tick off the Guardians of the Galaxy, the Ravagers, and the Nova Corps…

Oh. Also, Meredith Quill is, somehow, back from the dead. And hurting her son? Yeah. You just made a _huge_ mistake.

(AU of Guardians Vol. 2 where Ego pulls a Xanatos Gambit and tries to distract Nova Corps, frame Yondu, and kill the Guardians before taking Peter. It doesn’t go as well as he’d planned. Also, Mantis is a little younger in this version, about 13 or so.)

Pitbull (ao3) - jellybeanforest T, 9k

Summary: Quill is not built to be a Ravager. Much too small and soft in all meanings of the word, the boy will be dead within the year if Yondu can’t break and remold him into something useful. So he decides to take Quill out on solo missions to train him, greatly taxing his already limited patience. Unfortunately, on one of their outings, Yondu’s past comes back to haunt them in the form of a Kree bounty hunter contracted by Yondu’s original owner: his breeder. Now, he must save himself and his young protégé from a life of slavery before they reach Hala.

Red (ao3) - jackfish (Delphi) yondu/kraglin M, 4k

Summary: Eyes, skies, uniforms, and killings—instances of the colour red in the life of Kraglin Obfonteri.

the fault in distant stars (ao3) - Donatello7 T, 11k

Summary: Prompt fill for LilRed7503

‘peter abused back on earth, by someone don’t care who. With the ravagers he’s terrified not because they kidnapped him but because their adults. It takes Yondu no time at all to figure out, especially since Peter keeps flinching expecting a slap. Yondu + ravagers prove to Peter that nothing is his fault and he didn’t deserve it’

The Future Is Yet Unwritten (ao3) - Rebel_Atar yondu/kraglin E, 15k

Summary: An encounter with a strange artefact forever changes Yondu's life and now he is determined to change his death too.

The Way We Were (ao3) - effiegogo yondu/kraglin T, 16k

Summary: After a crash, Yondu can't remember the last seven years of his life, including being exiled by Stakar Ogord and the acquisition of a certain Terran child.

Watch The Wall (ao3) - Run_Ravager_Run yondu/kraglin T, 49k

Summary: Peter Quill, abducted at eight, settles into life as a very small boy in a very big galaxy. He cheats, he lies, he steals. And he shuts his eyes and covers his ears, whenever Yondu tells him.

[ikkosu]

DRABBLE

a/n : teeny tiny horknee pharma drabble (I still have life a full-on chapter fic to write) but I can Imagine being pharma’s little pet and him using you. like post delphi Pharma would be unhinged yandere I swear. nsfw below. this is like,,,not really polished

warnings : a bit of nsfw, robo-cock, pharma, bad pacing n description

the datapad flares your face, straining your eyes as the texts, mingled with the white, skims across and disappeared with every scroll. you sag visibly. paperwork’s taking a toll. a cry for home’s sweet cushioned bed is a desperate need.

but that's fine, only a few more reports and—

your habsuite door swishes open. you freeze, nobody knew your pad lock key. when you whirled around the open air is no longer warm as your nose punts against hard, cold metal.

“Uhnf—“ you stumble, back against the edge of the desk, rattling the clutter, one palm clutching the burning pain.

you swivel up to the perpetrator : pharma, who's peering over the crook of his nose, a wide-chesire grin fueling what you could only assume was his manic induced episodes.

you sputter. "pharma, wait!”

you’re shoved against the desk, two servos clamped onto your shoulders.

“It’s sir.” he cuts you off with a sudden venom, clutching your face, leaning close. his hot breath fanned your face. “have I been away for too long, my pet decides she can neglect her position as my plaything?”

"mmfh!—" you open your mouth, but his thumb forcefully parts your lips, pressing the digit against the teeth, hard, unable to allow you a response.

"ah, ah, ah. don't be so feisty yet...." he croons abs smears the collecting saliva across your lips, down to your chin and the digits dances along your the cleavage of your lab cost, down towards your abdomen until his servos curled around an ankle, the other servo, a fucking chainsaw, is pressed against your belly.

“please, don't do this.” you breathe out, steadying your breath.

if your chest heaved a little too much, it grazes against the cold blade, the sharp metal bound to cut you up at any moment. It revs slightly as he chuckles, a low daunting croon. not a good sign. he leans back, padding his cheek against the sole of your foot, nudging it with his nose.

“did you hear what I asked?”

“please—"

“no, no, no, no. don’t answer that, darling.” his tongue shoots out, swirling around the flesh on your ankle. he pressed a gentle kiss to your heel then trails his lips down your calf.

“somethings been bothering me. just a tiny, little inkling. I've seen the way those…mechs were looking at you. I don't blame them. In fact, I don't blame any cybertronian who looks at you with desire.”

he archs over you, the servo now griping the edge, nose brushing up against your thigh and hikes up the hem of your shirt, a gentle kiss plops on the flesh of your stomach. You fidget, uncomfortable. The only thing keeping you from lashing out is that chainsaw now nudging the underside of your chin. you stilled, muscles sore from not moving too long.

please, please, please, oh my god—

“how could they not want to own a pretty pet like you? soft, easy to use. a spike sleeve when I'm down. you're mine and mine alone. my property, my little slave, and I'm going to make sure to remind you that each and every time I see fit."

pharma pulls back, the chainsaw retracts and whirls around to slump into the office chair, haughty much as a king does when he claims his throne. he stares down at you from above, scrutinizing your form on the desk.

“well? on your knees, pet.”

you gather yourself, elbows perching your body up. “you can’t just—“

“use you as I please?” he laughed, incredulously and he leans on his fist a look of adoration creases his features. “you’re joking and while i'd consider it a splendid kind of humor.you should know I don’t much like jokes. and wheb I do these, as you say they were, ‘jokes’ would have to please me in some manner."

his grin turns into a slight snark. "now, you’re not. you’re disappointing me. is this something I’ll have to discipline you for in the future little pet?”

your eyes instantly fell, downcast. you're shoving down that last grip of pride for your life. who knows what this sadist could do to your dead body, so you settle on, “no. not at all, sir.'

he seemed satisfied, tipping his chin up. "get to it, then. On your knees,”

you slump to the ground, folding your legs until the heel pressed against your ass. you lean over, hands primly folded over his thighs.your eyes peer under your lashes, attempting the most submissive look you can muster to stop yourself from strangling the jet.

it appears he adores your internal seething mind, humming and putting a servo on your head, thumb against the hairline. his modesty panel retracts and pharma groans, spike at attention, striaght to the brim, already pressurized. it’s throbbing, red bio lights saturated much as his lust.

“I won’t have to teach you again, no?” his body thrummed, much like an overheating generator.

you glare at him and somehow he encourages that by pinching the fat of your cheeks. "…no, sir.”

“good. show me just how much you learned, my darling little pet.” he drawls.

with one last curse to his god your hands latch out to cup the length. his thighs tensed for a moment, straining a sigh. for someone so smug he's incredible vocal when stimulated. you didn't much care, though, lips kissing the beading tip, suckling on it like a honeycomb, salty to the taste. bitter, even.

you feel the chair creak as pharma leans against the cusion, helm against the headrest, chin jut to the ceiling. his servos are a vice grip on the armrest and you take it a go-sign, tongue swirling around the leaking precum, lapping up the slick. you pushed the tip against the inner flesh of your cheek. his digit curls into your hair, gritting his teeth, strained.

“mhhn, hah, now, I think it’s time you take it whole, yes? open that pretty, little mouth wider darling,’’

[funky-sea-cryptid]

HI TAM :3

For the oc asks:

2 and 26 for Delphi

6 and 20 for Alois

:3

HI LUCA!!!

delphi:

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

a plant? absolutely. a pet? most likely. a child? he would panic. delphi's historical experience with parenthood is not incredible, and he would worry about hurting the kid or neglecting the kid's needs or not taking good enough care of the kid. ironically, he would overcompensate for this and actually be very good at it, if not way too overprotective.

delphi's an incredibly nervous little man, okay. he's got anxiety.

26. Talent or effort?

effort, one hundred percent. delphi's nervousness makes him actually put a lot less stock in his talent than he should. he's very talented, but he believes his effort is more important. as long as he puts his all into something, he can't do it badly (but he can do it wrong! and that also scares him! get him some fluoxitine)

alois:

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

alois will take advice from aayden exclusively, which is hysterical because aayden has like -5 critical thinking. but alois never really felt close to their older brothers, ciel was gone for most of their life, anais is unhinged, and joey is very hard to talk to on the best of days. because of that, and because they raised ange together, alois and aayden are actually incredibly close.

they would never take advice under any circumstances from zenon. he is their least favorite zogratis sibling. alois did not know zenon too well, they were a castle guard, but they DESPISE him with a passion. zenon could tell them to keep the knife in to stop the bleeding and alois would pull the knife out, exclusively because they hate zenon. you ever know someone you don't even know too well but like their vibes are SO OFF. yeah, zenon is that to alois. which is crazy, because alois is also a weird emo little freak.

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

....dante zogratis.