#orion shiny hunts

[jojo-ker06]

The people have spoken and they want:

✨️ORION LORE✨️

(WARNING: Might be longer than the Wishmas lore)

Normal Form Human Form

Introduction and Family:

Orion is an 17 year old prince from the star kingdom Estrellania.

Despite his parents ruleing over the kingdom of the deceased star-king Galaxius, they are not related to him. When King Galaxius was defeated in war with Rosas, the kingdom went to them since they had been friends and Galaxius had no wife or children.

Orions parents are King Aster and Queen Luminara.

(Family picture from when Orion was 7)

They once had a happy family life until the queen left them. She told her family that she would go down to earth to "settle things" there and promised the then seven year old Orion that she would return soon. But she never did and this caused his father to become very over-protective of Orion. King Aster stopped believing that his wife would ever return, but Orion didn't. He just knew that she couldn't be gone forever. Even though he wants to go to earth to search for his mother (and to maybe explore the earth after finding her), his father won't let him leave his home because he's too worried that he'll loose his only son and another person he loves. So call it luck for Orion (or bad luck for his dad) when Asha's wish knocks the star prince out of the sky.

Powers and other things:

All stars share the same abilities: Flight, the power to take on a human form and the form of a round little star, talking to animals and making things fly with stardust. But Stars who come from royalty have a bonus power: healing wounds with their tears.

What's also special about the stars is that they're born with a special power. It can be: controlling light or making animals actually talk, to name a few options. But royal stars are born with two special powers. Those can be common ones (from which I've mentioned two), but it could also be rare ones like: viewing things trough mirrors made by stars, shape-shifting into other people, to change constellations, and other things.

Stars don't unlock their full power potential until they are 18. So while they're not 18 yet, they can't use their powers too long because it exhausts them too much. Orion will turn 18 later in the story, but I'm sure THAT'S totally not plot relevant or anything😅.

Orions two special powers are:

-being able to change sizes while in round star form.

- Something else I won't reveal yet because it's super plot relevant (and I still want you to be interested in my rewrite and not get bored lol)

A little fun fact about his plushie-form: While he's in it, he can't really communicate with humans. The thing that humans hear when he's talking while in that form is little squeaks (like a squeaky-toy lol)

It is also this form that Morado (the pet cat of the royals) loves to hunt. Morado really loves shiny objects and that's what Plushie-form Orion basically is to him. There will be little chase scenes between the two, where Morado wants to grab the little plush and Orion has to escape. Too bad his dust makes things fly lol.

Emotions and reactions:

When feeling different emotions, Orions light changes according to his feelings.

When in his normal mood, his light is and warm bright, but still not eye-hurtingly bright.

When extremly happy, he shines VERY, VERY bright. You would probably need sunglasses if you meet him like this lol.

When sad, his light dims down.

But if you somehow managed to get him super angry, and I mean, smoke-coming-out-of-his-ears-angry, then his hair turns into fire and he becomes filled with cartoonish rage.

Orion actually rarely gets angry in any way. Not just because he's a peaceful and optimistic person but also because he himself thinks that he'd be useless without his happy mood. He made himself believe that he can only be usefull if he's always helping others and is constantly happy, because wishing stars are always supposed to be helping those in need and don't require help themselfs. He puts himself under pressure and is always talking himself down for the tiniest flaws he made or makes. Instead of talking about it, he puts a smile on and continues to offer his help to others but never wants help for himself because he made himself think that that makes him weak. He knows that it isn't true, but still, it scares him.

He also dosen't cry infront of others and does it when he's completly alone. I plan to add a scene where Asha, not being able to sleep, accidently finds Orion crying. Before that point it was always Orion who comforted her and listened to her, but now Orion is the one talking and Asha is the one listening.

And that's it for the lore about Orion! I hope you enjoyed it, didn't get too bored while reading and liked the little sketches I made✨️. Have a great day/afternoon/evening/night! 👋

(Tagging Time: @starss-artss @spectator-zee @rascalentertainments @your-ne1ghbor @dangerousflowerpanda )

[torment-deviser]

Professor Aspen

Presenting Professor Orion Aspen, specialist in Pokemon Biology

Another young graduate professor. His studies and research are focused on color variations of Pokemon. Both natural, and especially shiny Pokemon. He has established his practice in the Aevium region, due to the phenomenon of shinies being different in the region compared to others.

Initially he assists Professor Jenner with caring for the starters along with working on his own research. Eventually he takes over the research aspect of the work in Gearen Laboratory and still taking care of the starters, while Professor Hawthorne takes over the teaching aspect of the work in the Laboratory. He is unfortunately quite clumsy which has caused problems in the lab before. But overall he is very passionate about his specialty and cares for the research subjects he is overseeing very well. His Pokemon team, unsurprisingly are conformed of shiny Pokemon. However he is by no means a battle specialist, and his Pokemon were chosen because they were either very beautiful shinies, or because the way their shiny presentation looks is interesting.

Trivia:

-Electabuzz was his first Pokemon, and the one that inspired his interest in shiny and different Pokemon colorations. As since he had it since an Egg, and Elekid's OG shiny form is barely distinguishable. He didn’t realize he had a shiny until it evolved into an Electabuzz, which fascinated him. 

-Blissey can often be seen tending to the starters when there is no trainer expected to come pick one.

-Weeezing and Starmie he chose both because he quite liked their Aevian shiny appearance. But also because Stench and Illuminate are useful for finding more shinies or avoiding Pokemon when doing field work.

-He often was assisted by Melia due to her special ability to attract shiny Pokemon. Later On he made request for Ariadne to hunt shiny Pokemon.

-He was born and studied in Hoenn, and is close friends with Professor Redwood.

-Like Redwood, he is sponsored by both the league and especially Professor Oak, and has the other prototype Pokedex in his possession.

[vals-fanfiction-blog]

ORION

A/N: My silly little fanfiction part 1 of my oc orion who is neros adopted younger sibling.

Dante , dont go near them. Nero hissed as he batted open the door for the small 14 year old child.

"He looks so much like you" dante whispered with a slight chuckle before walking into the kitchen out of sight.

"Orion this is where my work happens"

Said nero touring them round the office.

We have your uncles desk here where he takes calls for jobs.

Orion just nodded slowly in response.

Nero continued to churn up useless facts about devil hunting and orion still nodded but it was slower and their head seemed heavier and they was thinking about more than just the ins and outs of melee attacks.

Of course orion listened to nero but it was only out of one ear. Who was the man nero was talking to earlier, dante right? . He was pretty in a masculinish way and his red coat was really cool better than neros-

"Orion are you even listening to me"

Yes...

"Good, the devil arms...."

Yet their mind wandered back to the mysterious stranger in red.

"Howd it go kid" asked dante as nero walked into kitchen for a drink with a nonchalant shrug "it went fine"

Dante smiled "if ya say so"

Orion meanwhile was sitting on their brothers bed and staring at the portrait hanging on the wall. Nero with a beautiful girl with rosy cheeks like china and eyes like glittering marbles.

With long brown hair like silk hazelnuts cascading off her shoulders.

Many people i dont know. They thought while they twiddled their fingers round the curls of fluffy white hair.

Nero had told them to stay there and to not talk to dante .at.all.

He was dead serious about that.

So there orion sat while occasionaly lending broken glances around the room they were ledged in.

He heard a soft knock at the door before nero came in.

"Im going out alright, you stay here"

Orion nodded.

Nero smiled awkwardly and shuffled out the room before closing the door.

A good 5 minuets rolled by and orion heard nothing but silence. They were told to stay put , not go anywhere.

Would a little rampant 14 year old listen to such words.

They hopped down each wooden step to enter the office.

A room lined with dusty wooden plates enlaced with weapons pinned lazily upwards. It also held posters of shiny women with bright grins. It was cosy, thats for sure.

They made their way into the kitchen. A lazily cut together patchwork of rubbed materials like a collage.

A very old countertop, edges soft and worn with long scratches like roads on a map.

And on the table itself was the man; dante.

He held a bottle in his fist and was reading a glossy magazine with a grin.

His frame was cloaked in dark red ash in a form of a giant trench coat which barley clutched off his bent over posture.

He had dirty white hair now adged grey like soot. And he had blue steely eyes like candles ablaze.

Orion was transfixed.

As if in a honey glue haze , they lurched forward ever so slightly trembling ever so slightly.

"Hey kiddo" said dante not even looking up.

Orion gulped and felt their cheeks flush .

"Hey mr dante sir er" they tripped over each word and their heart was pounding like an uncalled beat of a song . Leaping into the ribcage that surrounded it like a clasp of two hands.

They could hardly breathe , not when he was staring at him like that , two fragments cloaking years of hard worn down traumas, blood sweat and tears.

"You alright" responded dante after a few beats of silence that seemed to reel out for an eternity .

"Y-yeah" stuttered orion.

Dante hummed and motioned them a seat . They sat down awkwardly.

Silence

"Your brother is a bit of stick in the ass at the moment aint he"

He waited for a response .

"I suppose so"

"Your loyal ay, dont go blabbin about your brother like that"

Orion just nodded

"Thats something I respect"

Another beat of silence...

Dante observed orion, they way they sat , straight and curled as if they wanted to hide in themselves .

He knew that posture...

So he slowly put his hand out onto his shoulder and said in a slow calming voice

"Hey, hey its alright"

Orion almost shrugged him off but then began to melt into his touch .

And they sat in silence , dante rubbing his shoulder.

"You wanna get some pizza?"

"Y-yeah sure"

Dante stood up with a tiny groan and made his way to the phone on his desk.

"Er pizz mhm"

The call briefley ended and dante walked back into the kitchen and patted orion on the shoulder.

"Ya wanna watch a bit of tv till the

pizza arrives"

They walked into the "living room" the front of the office.

Orion landed themselves on the couch and snuggled into the cushion.

Dante followed sitting next to him and picking up the remote.

"What do you wanna watch?"

Orion didnt respond so dante chose .

"This one alright"

They hummed in response.

An hour passed as the movie played and the outside plunged into darkness , the orange soft light piercing through the opaque veil.

The pizza had been delived and dante was wiping his sleeve on the grease of his mouth.

"Good kid?"

Orion smiled weakely and nodded.

"Whens nero back its been over an hour" thought orion "and he wanted me to sit on his bed the entire time"

The movie contiued to play and orion felt dantes arm snake around their shoulders. They didnt say anything but shifted in their seat.

"Your gonna be a proper devil hunter ay, arnt ya" said dante glancing at orion with a half drawn smile.

"Dont speak much, thats fine kid"

"Gonna be like your big brother , strong and protects all the women"

Orion's cheeks flushed red "I-I dont think so"

"No?"

"Ya got a gilfriend" dante gave him a playful wink.

"N-no"

Dante gave a chuckle"oh thats alright"

"You will find her one day, be a big strong man"

Orion clenched their fists on their lap "how do i tell him"

"I dont even know him that well but it feels like ive been here for years"

Orion looked out the window into the street and it was so peaceful. The wind rustled the trees and rocked the long spindles of twigs .

The lamposts roared with a soft orange hue, burning the shop fronts with a golden light.

"Hey....dante"

"Yeah kid?"

"Im not....a man"

Dante looked surprised and orion held their breath, heart hammering but dante gave a smile.

"Im so sorry"

Orion let out a breath they didnt realise they were holding before they proccessed dantes words and gave a confused and surprised look.

"I would of not said such things if i realised, im really sorry"

The door opened suddenly spurred revealing an out of breath nero.

"W-what on earth?"

Nero strolled towards dante, heavy shopping bag in hand like a mother with 5 kids who had just finished her divorce papers.

"Dante" he mused "what did I tell you about staying away from my brother for the time being?"

And the peaceful atmosphere snapped like a ruler splitering into 2 plastic halves.

"I dunno" dante shrugged nonchalantly.

"I SAID" said nero teething with anger "to NOT go near them"

"Orion just go into the kitchen"

"Me and dante have to have a word"

[boyvidae]

two of my most recent shinies from pkmn sword! sirfetch'd and skwovet. still dont have a named for sirfetchd but im thinkg strawberry for skwovet. i only have 2 other sword shinies im looking to hunt for, g. zigzagoon and g. slowpoke!

[catgirlkirigiri]

Another good one today! Two dupes but this zorua is an alpha so she counts separately, and I evolved Scorpius (last gligar) so this guy just won’t be evolving :)

Shoutout to the insane shiny luck I got out of nowhere today???? I’ve been hunting that zoroark for three days (169 total encounters), magby was from an outbreak, and starly was completely random. Insane

[vesemirsexual]

Ayyy I wanna figure out a proper scar for Ciri, but I don't really have many ideas. Here is a quick trace of a screenshot as the first concept I have, and I'd like to know what you'd change or add to this to make it match the book description better. Afaik, Eskel's scars in the books are described as "hook-shaped" (or semi-circular, smth like that) and I used that as a base for this concept because I wanted Ciri to match her uncle :)

the little shiny things under her eyes are medical staples. probably wouldnt be used right under the eyes, but I wanted to add some more "grit", since she kind of has been stripped of it for a while. inspired a bit by dabi from bnha

I love this!

I’ve had a hunt around because I do remember that Sapkowski describes the wound in quite a bit of detail, which I figured may be helpful to you developing what it looks like.

"Diagnosis: vulnus incisivum, an open wound, dealt with great force using an unidentified sharp instrument, probably a curved blade. It encompasses the left part of the face, beginning in the infraorbital region, running across the cheek and extending as far as the parotid plexus and masseter muscle. The wound is deepest–reaching the periosteum–in the initial part beneath the orbit on the zygomatic bone."

"Vysogota removed the last stitches three days later. He had every reason to be pleased and proud of his work–the line was even and clean, there was no need to fear a tattoo of dirt embedded in the wound. However, the satisfaction of the surgeon was spoiled by the sight of Ciri, in sombre silence, contemplating the scar in the looking glass held at various angles and trying vainly to cover it by pulling her hair over her cheek. The scar disfigured her. It was simply a fact. Nothing could be done. Pretending that it was different could not help in any way. Still scarlet, bulging like a cord, surrounded by needle punctures and marked with the scars from the stitches, the scar looked truly horrifying. There was a chance of it undergoing gradual or even rapid improvement. Vysogota knew, though, that there was no chance of the disfiguring scar vanishing."

This is a description of the wound when still fresh, so obviously scarring would be different. However she also only had a short period of time to lay low before she was back into it so I can imagine that it wasn’t exactly a perfect healing process + further fighting/movement would’ve strained it.

She’s hit with an Orion (a throwing star) when she’s on horseback and Skellen in on the ground, from the left side. The wound is described as deepest beneath the orbital zone/on the zygomatic arch, which would make sense - this area sticks out the most and probably got the worst of the initial contact.

The only thing I can really think of right now is maybe the addition of little stitch scars around the wound! Like you said, it would add a little more grit, and I think that in the deeper/wider parts of the wound it probably would’ve been a mission and a half to stitch back together!

[hptriadfest]

Masterlist with Creators

I’m ecstatic to reveal the list of all of the wonderful works created for this year's fest. If you haven’t already (or even if you have) please go and give some love to our brilliant authors and artists!

The title for each work is a link to it on Ao3

Day 1 Scalene Author: lumosatnight Harry has a house; Pansy needs a place to stay. It’s a match made in burning hell that only gets hotter when Pansy encounters her new roommates: the strangely intelligent Luna Lovegood and the intriguingly provocative Ginny Weasley. And that’s only the beginning! Throw in a giant snow leopard, yoga in the hallway, and an electric guitar. Welcome to Grimmauld Place!

Day 1 sunlight girls Artist: babooshk_art They'd started out in three separate flats. Cho, close to the arena for practice. Padma, a studio apartment over a bookshop (a childhood dream), and Luna in a fourth-floor walk up that she'd chosen purely for the windows. Plants needed sunlight, she needed sunlight, it all made sense.

What made better sense was when they all came together.

Day 2 The Three of Us Author: storyofeden Communication and understanding are perhaps the most important things in a relationship like theirs. Except…Hermione breaks her unspoken, unwritten rule. She falls in love with them.

Unfortunately, Sirius and Severus have each other, and she’s just…an arrangement. What could they possibly need her for when they have everything they need in each other? Then, Hermione’s world drops out from under her, and her fears are confirmed; she’s been nothing but a game this entire time.

Except miscommunication and misunderstanding have clouded everything, because Severus and Sirius love her, too. They thought she knew.

Day 2 Taking a Third Author: The Muse of Apollo (mtwb) Hermione needs help during the Horcrux hunt to pull herself together. Daphne is just the person for the job.

Day 3 Icarus Author: thistlecat A year after the war, Parvati runs into Pansy and Millicent at a club in Ibiza and finds herself embedded in their debauchery. None of it’s healthy, and it works until it doesn’t.

Day 3 Just the Way You Are Artist: herman_the_moth A kindly offered mug of tea can be enough to start a beautiful friendship. And sometimes friendships turn into something more...

Day 4 Balms To The Spirit Author: BleepBloopBotz "Harry has had chronic pain since ever since he died and came back to life. Now that he's in a relationship with Ron and Hermione, he's worried the relationship will be over before it's even began because he often has bad joint pain during sex. Ron and Hermione of course see no problem with this and are more than willing to adapt their sex lives for Harry."

Day 4 Time Triad Author: aleysiasnape Hermione accidentally bonds with Abraxas Malfoy and Orion Black.

Day 4 If Three's a Crowd, Then Crowd Me Author: SumthinClever Draco is asexual and fears Blaise will leave him due to his inability to fulfill his needs, and so suggests they open their relationship for Blaise to find partners willing to fulfill him. Draco fears Blaise will fall in love with someone else and still leave him, but neither of them figured it would be Draco that found someone else to love, too.

Day 5 Silver becomes Gold Author: dark_pookha Neville and Luna were brought together by the D.A. Ginny joins them later after leaving Harry. Each of them has a long-term lover in their open relationship.

Neville, Luna, and Ginny have just one rule: "When two or more of us are home, it's just us, but what you do on the road is your business."

Day 5 or else a scar Artist: babooshk_art The transition had gone smoothly, months of appointments and bitter potions and questionnaires that mediwix had him fill out, every detail laid out on parchment. His shiny pink scars were aged silvery with magic, and Harry couldn't stop running his fingers over them, over the soft flat expanse of his chest.

His boyfriends were equally enamored with his new body, and took it upon themselves to teach him a few things.

Day 6 Four Little Words Author: TheSlytherinGurl Severus made a face, “That particular phrase always has issues, most of the time it's never good.”

Frederique Weasley has been having a rough time. Both of her wives have been gone for a week. Work has been tough with Georgia off on her honeymoon. When she is at her lowest, she gets that dreaded text. "We need to talk."

Day 6 For All You Give (I'll Give It Back to You) Author: bluefay A birthday, a beach cottage, a love confession (or two). All Harry can wonder is why it took him so long to figure this out.

Day 7 Querying their quarrel Author: Contrarian_hedgehog Remus likes his new colleagues. If only they could learn to get along with each other...

Day 7 A Love Like This Author: SumthinClever Harry, Ginny, and Draco are ecstatic about their incoming baby. They don't know what the baby will look like or who fathered it, but they'll all love it regardless. They are shocked to discover not everyone feels the same way.

Day 7 Sigh No More Author: multilingualism No one said surviving a war would be easy. And even then, surviving is only half the battle. But just as Ron wasn't alone in that fight, his two best friends—and greatest loves—will be there for him every step of the way.

Day 8 Epicurea Author: SmallSherbert There is a kink club in Diagon Alley, Epicurea, a temple of hedonism and pleasure.

Epicurea is the perfect playground for Pansy to explore her love for women and dominating.

Day 8 Bonds Forged in Shadows Author: sarmofishy Three people brought together in war find love in the aftermath.

Day 9 Hanging by a thread (to love and be loved) Author: Vertraymer "The strongest bonds are those made in battle."

Day 9 A Break in the Waves Author: brightlightsfading Grief comes on like waves during a storm but they always break.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron navigate their eighth year together back at Hogwarts while also dealing with post-war life.

Day 9 Two In The Hand Artist: slytherco Draco Malfoy has a unique gift—he can see Magical Auras and the way they interact. Both a curse and a blessing, his talent let him become an exceptional Curse-Breaker but ruined most of his relationships, including The One Draco still can't quite shake. When he's unexpectedly summoned to Grimmauld Place 12 to dispel a particularly stubborn jewellery box, complicated spellwork isn't the only thing Draco has to face in the next several days.

Harry Potter's sons are now grown men and their Auras are not what Draco would ever expect. Nor is their unabashed, persistent interest—and Draco could never resist a Potter.

[dalekofchaos]

Superman Fancast:Last Son Of Krypton

With the success of The Batman, I’d love a similar treatment for Superman

my other DC fancasts

DCEU Recast

Batman

Wonder Woman

The Flash

Green Lantern

Aquaman

Green Arrow

Justice League

Teen Titans

Justice League Dark

Batman Beyond

The Dark Knight Returns

Telltale’s Batman

Injustice

Legion Of Doom

Birds Of Prey

Few things I wanna say before we continue with the fancast. 

Metropolis. You know how Batman adaptations make Gotham very distinct with a broody atmosphere and Gothic architecture? We need the same energy for Metropolis. Metropolis should look bright, shining and borderline futuristic. Metropolis should have a proper 50's retro-futurism vibe. Long monorails, golden shiny buildings, rounded glass penthouses

Director. Ideally I would say Brad Bird, George Miller or Matthew Vaughn

Reason for reboot. WB still has no idea on what they want to do with Superman or if Henry will even still be attached.  Also another reason for why I want this hypothetical reboot is this video

David Corenswet as Superman/Clark Kent

Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane

Skyler Gisondo as Jimmy Olson

Milly Alcock as Supergirl/Kara Zor-El

Kit Connor as Superboy/Connor Kent/Kon-El

Jorge Benito as Young Superboy/Jon Kent

Finn Wolfhard as older Superboy/Jon Kent 

Sydney Sweeney as Power Girl/Karen Starr

Omari Hardwick as Steel/John Henry Irons

Pruitt Taylor Vince as Jonathan Kent

Neva Howell as Martha Kent

Kurt Russell as Jor-El

Lara Pulver as Lara Lor-Van

Abigail Cowen as Lana Lang

Nico Greetham as Pete Ross

Marissa Bode as Lena Luthor

Ella Hunt as Lucy Lane

Wendell Pierce as Perry White

Sarah Paulson as Cat Grant

Sterling K Brown as Ron Troupe

Patrick Warburton as Steve Lombard

Billie Piper as Maggie Sawyer

Michael Chiklis as Dan Turpin

Danny Glover as William Henderson

Matthew Modine as Professor Emil Hamilton

Clancy Brown as General Sam Lane

Tom Baker as Highfather

Sam Heughan as Orion

Nicholas Hoult as Lex Luthor

Natalie Dormer as Mercy Graves

Chukwudi Iwuji as Brainiac

Keith David as Darkseid

Sam Worthington as Metallo/John Corbin

John Carroll Lynch as Parasite

Dolph Lundgren as Mongul

John Goodman as Ultra-Humanite

Alexa Demie as Delores Winters

John C. Reilly as Toyman

Viggo Mortensen as General Zod

Carrie-Anne Moss as Ursa

Nathan Jones as Non

Jason Momoa as Lobo

Kristen Stewart as Livewire

Alexandra Daddario as Silver Banshee

Christina Hendricks as Volcana

Tyler Hoechlin as Bizzaro

Henry Cavill as Cyborg Superman/Hank Henshaw

James McAvoy as Manchester Black

Larry David as Mr. Mxyzptlk

Liev Schreiber as Kalibak

Kathy Bates as Granny Goodness

Clive Standon as Steppenwolf

Lars Mikkelsen as DeSaad

[thenightmaregrrl]

Orion's Body 2: He's Back- Chapter 11: Good Talk

Megatron woke up feeling like death, he has been struggling with voices in his head bouncing around like rubber balls, night terrors, and withdrawal spells from the meds he was prescribed. Plus the fact that his ex-friend is back from the dead and looking to make his life as miserable as ever is just icing on top of the shit cake that is his life so far. He lays on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He wanted to stay in bed, but knew that was impossible, not with Orion running around. 

With a groan he got up. And decided to continue his investigation. He went to his hoodie, put it on, zipped it up and walked out the door. He decided to walk to the falls. 

By the time he reached it, it was pretty late. He could hear the rushing water and see it too. He looked around. 

He soon came across a shiny speck in the damp grass, curious he walked towards it and saw what it was. 

The blade to a large hunting knife. 

He soon felt his face flush with rage, he knew that band was no good! He knew it! His instincts were screaming at him to give chase but he didn’t! Now some poor femmes are dead! 

He was soon pacing, and saw the body. 

Nautica was draped over the rock, still, the energon now dried and a deep magenta against her deep green armor. The stab wounds visible all around her torso, it was straight out of a horror movie. 

Megatron fell back in shock, holy shit. He came across a second dead body. 

Except, this time he felt like this scene was eerily familiar, like it happened before. Then, it hit him. 

Orion. 

“I didn’t miss this place.” A familiar voice sliced through his thoughts like a blade. 

Megatron turned around and saw his ex-amica standing there, in a plain white shirt, a tight hoodie with a gothic skull design on the chest, and some low waisted pants. He saw him walk up to the dead frame of Nautica and look at it, his motions were casual and fluid. Megatron closely watched him like a hawk. 

“Damn, they got her good.” He quipped. 

Megatron said nothing, but Orion continued. 

“You know, when I was sacrificed, I forgot one tiny little detail,” He looked at Megatron, causing the other mech to notice the winged liner. 

“I felt every single stab she gave me.” 

Megatron asked, “Did it hurt?” 

“Like a bitch.” Orion snarked. 

Megatron sighed, “So, you hungry? I bet this could feed you for a month or so.” 

Orion cringed, “You dumb bastard, I don’t eat old food, she’s way past her expiration date.” 

“She died, Orion, show some respect.” 

“So what? Dying isn’t that big of a deal.” Orion poked her head like a little kid. 

Megatron looked, “Why are you here anyways?” He asked. 

Orion shrugged, “Just wanted to see you.” 

Megatron made a face, “I thought you hate me?” 

Orion gave him a sharp look, “I do, still do. But, you were my amica. That whole bit of you throwing away my pendant hurt.” 

Megatron rolled his optics, “That was 5 years ago. Move on already.” 

Orion snipped, “I fucking died. By you jamming a fucking boxcutter through my spark.” 

“And you have a second chance at life, use it. Go into the city, lots of guys there for you to eat.” Megatron snipped back. 

Orion glared, “I told you before, I go both ways.” 

“Whatever.” Megatron responded, rolling his optics. 

Orion pouted, but decided to change the subject, “So…. you see anyone we knew?” 

Megatron noticed, but decided to indulge him, “I saw Misfire and Roller.” 

Orion perked at hearing Roller, “Really? Did he move on?” 

“Far from it. Your valve must be magical or something to make him celibate.” Megatron looked at Orion, who couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. 

Megatron took this opportunity to  get back on track, “I still don’t forgive you.” 

Orion stopped and looked, “Come on….” He whined. 

Megatron glared, “No ‘come on’, you killed my boyfriend, and didn’t care. You were never a good amica, you used me to make yourself feel good.” 

Orion snipped back, “That was 5 years ago, you got me in the end for it.” 

Megatron didn’t stop though, “Yeah well, because of you, your influence, your stupid legacy, a band did the same thing Elita did to you to this poor femme! For the same purpose! Hope you’re happy.” 

Orion said nothing for a moment, then finally spoke, “I… It’s not my fault the town decided to make me a legend.” 

Megatron kicked the grass, kicking up sticks, “God Dammit Orion! It is!” 

Orion didn’t flinch. 

Megatron looked at him, then spoke words that made Orion’s energon boil in anger. 

“I’m glad I killed you.” 

And with that, Megatron walked away, ignoring Orion’s screams of anger.

[bare1ythere]

MEET ANUBIS!!

[soundwavereporting]

this (currently untitled) fic was intended for the sadly-cancelled tfrarepairings week :< 

onesided soundwave/shockwave/prowl (all the pining is on soundwave’s end) ft. the junkion campaign, casual war crimes, attempted genocide, mentions of unethical scientific experiments, fantasizing, poorly handled PTSD, mentions of xenophobia, canon-typical nonsense and violence. lmk if you think there’s anything else that needs a tag.

it’ll go on ao3 whenever i think of a title!

Soundwave sat and waited.

This sector of Junkion was almost familiar—even before their arrival, it had clearly been one of the areas the unfortunate masses had fled to survive. Soundwave knew little about Junkion’s governing bodies, but he doubted it mattered.

No matter where they went, the result was the same.

A stay thought process attempted to run the probabilities of the Junkions themselves organizing a revolt against their leaders, had they not had the misfortune to make contact with the Decepticons a mere five centuries ago. Soundwave cut off the calculations before they could begin to run in earnest. That the Junkions were a mechanical race, fully sentient and still going to be extinct within the next week…Soundwave tried not to think about that.

He wondered what might have changed if Megatron were here. Would Megatron have forbade Shockwave’s envoy from landing on Junkion? And what about the test group of Junkions, sent to them as a peace offering, who now lay in pieces in one of Shockwave’s laboratories. They came from this sector, Soundwave knew, because their fear smelled like these buildings.

What little he remembered of his life before finding Ravage and the birds surfaced only in his most restless dreams. For whatever it was worth, Soundwave had come from a place like this.

Soundwave saw himself in Junkion; a chaotic melange of unstructured sensation, brought to heel only by the strength of will.

Not even his own will: Soundwave leaned back in his seat, stretching his awareness to the edge of the planet, seeking the only respite this place offered. Junkion was maddening chaos and disorder, threatening to break through what little focus had survived this campaign. He pushed past the colors and sounds that danced across the walls surrounding him, unhindered by the sensornet dampeners he had installed around the building.

He found it quickly: after all this time, his sensors were perfectly attuned to the chilling void of Shockwave’s mind.

Soundwave lingered in its absence for as long as he dared. Shockwave had never given any indication that he noticed Soundwave’s intrusion into his mind, but Soundwave did not dare press his luck. On multiple occasions, Shockwave had floated the idea of Soundwave being assigned to his command, with the understanding Soundwave would be there to continue work on Ferak’s aptly-named Nightmare Engine. Megatron had denied each request, not even needing to ask Soundwave for his input. Shockwave’s command was a euphemism for test subjects.

If nothing else, Shockwave’s cold desire for him provided all the incentive Soundwave needed to remain in Megatron’s good graces.

Soundwave could not read Shockwave’s mind, but he loved the silence all the same.

The only hint that Shockwave was still planetside at all was the passionless void amidst Junkion’s chaos. Soundwave had managed to carve out a semblance of peace in this sector, killing every Junkion in a hundred-mile radius and transferring what little signal-blocking equipment could be safely removed from his ship. Junkion was still a constant storm, but now it lingered in the back of his processor, allowing him to focus on relaying Decepticon communications across the planet. It was a simple task—too simple, leaving Soundwave excessive free time to struggle over Junkion’s hold on his mind.

Soundwave’s internal temperature kicked up a notch. The Junkions had unleashed a weapon—more chaos than anything substantive, a flurry of hundreds of acid-soaked scrap metal raining down on the encampment.

And then—ah. There he was.

Where Shockwave’s mind was eerie, comforting silence, Prowl’s mind was a tumult of conflicting numbers and trajectories as he calculated the exact path of the acid maelstrom raining down on them.

Soundwave lacked the presence of mind to look deeper and attempt to understand exactly why Prowl had determined stepping up to divert the Junkion’s attention away from Shockwave was needed.

He trusted Prowl’s reasoning all the same. Soundwave had spent a full week analyzing Prowl’s strategic choices in past campaigns, and he rarely made an error that could not be traced back to unreliable information. He allotted himself a few minutes to run scenarios as Prowl directed his squad where the fire, shooting down the storm of acidic debris with pinpoint accuracy.

Chances were Prowl had decided to save Shockwave in order to preserve command structure. Were he to allow Shockwave to be killed, the void in Decepticon High Command would lead to temporary victories—at least until someone took Shockwave’s place. Prowl likely feared someone even more ruthless—and more unpredictable—than Shockwave himself would be promoted. Bludgeon or Scorponok, perhaps.

The second reason, Soundwave was startled to realize, was because Prowl knew he was here. Decepticon communications had been transmitting across the system flawlessly, and Prowl had deduced it was because Soundwave was present. Killing Shockwave would flush Soundwave out—maybe. Or it might drive Soundwave deeper underground.

And Prowl had determined, Soundwave realized with no small amount of surprise, he was important. Not important in the vapid, Autobot way, where important mechs like Optimus Prime were lauded and shielded from the worst their factions had to offer. Important like a Decepticon, where he mattered. Not because of his alt mode or a shiny, false bauble had been implanted in his chassis, but because he was…

For a moment, Soundwave indulged himself, lingering in the tantalizing mix of fear and hate Prowl felt whenever he thought of Soundwave. He felt Prowl’s instinctive repulsion of Soundwave and his abilities, his devotion to a cause that had torn his home apart. What little sympathy Soundwave might have had for him dissolved like acid on protometal. Orion Pax had done more to destroy Soundwave’s home than Soundwave ever could, long before Soundwave had ever picked up a blaster, but Prowl would never see it that way.

He relayed the last transmissions for the cycle, then powered down the console and settled back in his chair. He was too far away to reach the battlefield before the skirmish inevitably finished (as it always did these days: in a draw), and his mission was clear: streamline Decepticon communications, jam Autobot transmissions.

Soundwave switched off his visor. Through Prowl’s eyes, he watched the Autobot gunners successfully take down the last of the storm. The Autobot’s tactical processor detected an anomaly in his surroundings, and Prowl whipped around, only for Shockwave’s blow to bounce painfully off his doorwing, shorting out the sensors as Prowl screamed and Soundwave winced at the unexpected blow.

Prowl’s mind was a finely-tuned, ruthless instrument of war, but compared to Shockwave’s dispassion, he was nothing. Soundwave allowed himself a moment to imagine what it might be like, struggling under the weight of Shockwave’s empty gaze as the scientist peeled him apart, finding what made Soundwave Soundwave…

And making it Shockwave’s.

As it inevitably did, the fantasy switched gears. Soundwave hadn’t been at an Institute in a hundred thousand years but he remembered it well—the cold steel restrains, the sharp needles digging into his neck. The mnemosurgeons’ barely-contained fear of having a high-profile target in their ‘care’ smelled like sulfur.

Soundwave exchanged the mnemosurgeons for Prowl. Where they felt fear, Prowl felt anger.

He had lived most of his life with both, and Soundwave always preferred the anger. Prowl would hurt him, yes, and Soundwave would hurt him in turn, reciting the things Prowl kept close to his spark, guarded with what tattered remnants of compassion had survived the last two million years.

And then he imagined them both, united against him. Their hands on his plating. Undoing him. Making him theirs, all ruthless, unyielding focus and cold logic pitted against the chaotic harmony of Soundwave’s mind.

Soundwave wanted nothing else.

The skirmish was brief: Shockwave was not built for combat, which factored into all of his plans. One of Shockwave’s scouts sent a ping (which Soundwave intercepted effortlessly and read before sending it on its way). They had found a way to the planet’s core.

Prowl’s scouts had found a path two days ago. Soundwave had allowed himself a brief moment of selfishness, withholding the information from Shockwave in the hopes that they might remain on Junkion a while longer.

Clearly, he had underestimated him—he had underestimated both of them.

With some disappointment, Soundwave realized their time on Junkion was coming to an end. The whorls of muted color dancing across the walls vanished for a moment, leaving nothing but the dead gray of his surroundings. He spent another longing moment in Prowl’s mind—while he might need to take care not to alert Shockwave of the mental intrusions (if an intrusion could even be detected), Prowl did not warrant any such courtesy. The desperate, rebellious part of Soundwave wanted Prowl to feel it, to seek him out and hunt Soundwave down.

He cut off that thought process as well. That bordered on courting treason—there was imagining a fantastical scenario where he was pinned between Cybertron’s greatest minds and fragged senseless, and then there was wanting to be caught by the enemy.

He felt the collision of the skirmish dissipate into Junkion’s murky atmosphere as the Autobot and Decepticon’s respective forces retreated. Steely resolve and bottomless logic clashed once more, and then Shockwave and Prowl parted ways a moment later, each sporting new dents and scratches Soundwave would have given anything to touch.

So many of his memories faded to hazy sameness as time drained all but the strongest of his emotions dry, but Soundwave hoped he would remember this.

Soundwave sighed and reactivated his visor, then got back to work.

[orrianreaper]

My GW2 New Kids, End of Year Round Up!

I literally doubled my character roster this year!! and i entirely blame HUNT for it

Here’s to a year of new children, and however many i end up making next year!

Technician Sorrix, ft. his assistant golem, Bently!

Archosias, aka. The Demon!

Firstborn Dairvaard!

Cryssi!

Captain Orion Star (self-indulgent old OC’s made shiny gw2 boy) !

Lady Katya Brightrose!

and thew newest girl, Duchess Corinthea!

[thenamesblurrito]

Record: Bumblebee about meeting one of the heros?

Record: give us an in-character blurb about x thing or event in this AU, from history, from the plot, etc!

Here ya go, the very first time Bumblebee meets one of the heroes! Can you guess who the hero is by the end? This fic occurs in S1E13 All My Friends Are Food! An Upgrade to Cannibals.

Now on AO3!

Content warning: child in peril

Bumblebee lost track of what turns he had taken. He’d never been this far from the compound without another Pax member with him! His suspension jostled painfully on another hard skid around a corner, leaving tire marks clear enough to track. He hoped someone would follow his trail and find him soon… someone that isn’t the creature hunting him right now.

A shimmer and a click gave him enough warning to roll out of the way of the monster’s lunge. Its jagged magenta armor scrabbled against the street where he had been just a second before. Bumblebee transformed to scramble up a ramp to an access port in the nearest building’s maintenance tunnels. He was small, and fast, and he could get away. He had to get away. All the streets were empty and all the windows were dark. He had to get away.

The close air in the tunnel made his already whirring vents work harder. His mouth hung open, but he made little noise, having shut off his vocalizer awhile ago to try and keep from crying. He didn’t know how to turn it back on. Aunty could do it for him, if he could get away.

If Aunty was still there when he got back.

His quick pedefalls echoed in the small space, but not loudly enough to drown out the shifting, buzzing, cackling thing chasing him. The whisper of a thousand moving needle points filled his audials like static. He shook his helm, but it wouldn’t go away. He kept taking random turns down different tunnel branches, but it still wouldn’t go away. Why, why wouldn’t the monster just go away!

Something caught the tip of his doorwing and sliced. His engine squealed and he stumbled over his own pedes. It hurt! The tunnel went fuzzy with pain for a second but he kept moving. Something made a delighted hiss, and he glanced back for only a moment.

A skittering swarm of scarlet scraplets made up the monster now, a hundred permanent grins filling the tunnel top to bottom, gnawing at a small, yellow, familiar piece of shrapnel.

He couldn’t feel his left wingtip all of a sudden.

A hard crash into a mesh vent covering knocked him flat on his back. The tunnel terminated here at the other side of the building, a wide street visible just beyond the cover. Even if he had been looking where he was running, it wouldn’t have helped him. The only path was back into the smiling fangs of the monster. He grabbed at the mesh, trying to tear through fibers too tightly woven for even his small claws, and felt his vents hitch over and over. The rustle of too many legs and grinding dentae made his audials ring. There wasn’t anybody on the street. His vocalizer wouldn’t turn on. His caretakers were missing.

He shook the mesh over and over, armor rattling in lieu of sobs. Where was everybody? He just wanted help!

A scraplet nipped at his pede and he kicked it back into the swarm.

Somebody! Aunty! Star Convoy!

A dozen more started creeping forward. He plastered his back to the vent cover, doorwing leaving droplets of energon against the mesh.

Orion!

A rumble and a snick was the only warning he had before the world fell out beneath him.

He was jostling, and moving, and wincing at a million shrill shrieks drowned out by a deep bass roar, and tumbling backwards entangled in suddenly loose mesh, and then he felt the familiar steady grip of someone carrying him in one arm.

“Far from home, bitlet?”

His optics opened and he saw a smouldering crevasse in the wall of the building he had just been trapped in. The tunnel was blown wide open, scraplets charred black littering the space as far back as the light could reach. Not one of them twitched. He gaped through the smoke at them.

Fingers larger than his arm curled into his view and he was lifted up to the warm purr of a chestplate he’d never seen before. He could see his own shocked face in the shiny windows. Looking up, he saw a mech as big as Aunty, with smiling optics, broad pauldrons, and a solid presence that made him start shuddering in sudden relief.

“Hey now, Bumblebee,” the mech hummed, bringing his other hand up after folding away a still-glowing cannon. “You’re alright. The mechannibal is gone. You’re just fine.”

One finger brushed over the missing wingtip and he spasmed away from the touch with a gasp. The mech’s expression darkened. “You will be just fine.”

He turned and strolled down the dark street, sparkling in hand. Very few lights had come on even though it was dusk, and shadows draped themselves across every available surface. Several corners and crannies had shapes of greyed metal peeking out, but Bumblebee could never get a good look before the mech turned and blocked his view. His engine was very deep and steady, even compared to Star Convoy, so he leaned in to rest his audial against the armor and just listen.

After a moment the mech started talking again. “Your Compact is okay. Star Convoy got most kids away from the swarm in time, and Aunty kept them back long enough for everyone else to get to safety. You were the only one who got cornered. Aunty wanted to come after you, but they had started to nibble her.”

He jerked up, clutching at his own stinging doorwing in sympathy.

“She’s got much thicker armor than you, she barely noticed.” He rapped his chestplate with the knuckles of his free hand. “Almost as good as mine.”

Bumblebee opened his mouth to ask something but only the click of his glossa came out, and he remembered his vocalizer was shut off. His face screwed up in frustration as he pawed helplessly at the seams of his neck.

The mech’s brow furrowed. “What’s the matter, bitlet? Glitched your volume control?”

He shook his helm and tried to act out the decision to turn off his voice with only his face and servos. The mech snorted, and he scowled. How else is he supposed to talk without words!

“Hm. Open up for me.” One huge fingertip gently tapped his tiny chestplate.

Bumblebee obliged, folding away the highest panel of his chest and collar. He had to tilt his helm all the way back, just like when Aunty did this. With servos that large, there wasn’t much interior medical work that could be done, but something about it just helped him. The mech was very careful, pressing lightly at the top of his vocalizer box. Bumblebee tried doing a hard reset and spat out some static.

“You aren’t fractured or overheating… have you tried turning it off and back on again?”

He huffed. It’s the second part that’s trouble!

“Try again.”

One last fritz of static and Bumblebee’s vocalizer was back on. He buzzed a few times to get used to it and then beamed. Before the mech could draw his hand away, he used it as a stairstep to launch himself bodily at his face, going for the biggest hug he could muster.

“Thank you thank you I thought I’d have to wait all the way ‘til we find Aunty again ‘coz the monster kept laughing when I cried so I turned it off but I can never figure out how to turn it back on again!”

His loud laughter was even nicer to listen to up here than through his chestplate. “Oh, now you’re the one jumping me? Bumblebee, how could you!” His hands came up to cup his back so he didn’t fall.

“You’re too big to hug all at once!” He sat back with a gasp at a sudden thought. “You knew my name already!”

“I did.” The mech’s optics were twinkling.

“Did you know about me before you came to get me?”

“I did.”

“Am I famous?”

The mech couldn’t stop his surprised snort. “Your caretakers certainly told me enough when they asked if I could find you.”

“Have I met you before?”

“Perhaps you have.”

“What’s your name?”

“You’ll figure it out here soon.”

“Why do you have five fingers?”

“I—” He blinked and flexed one of his hands, puzzled. “Well why not?”

“Are we home yet?”

With a roll of his optics, the mech muttered, “I knew you’d ask that eventually.” He plucked Bumblebee from his collar and tucked him back in the crook of one arm, never changing the steady pace he’d been walking at the whole time. “Give it a few cycles, bitlet. We’re almost there.”

Bumblebee settled back with his audial against armor, listening to his engine thrumming. His injury still stung but it had crystallized now, no longer leaking. Soon enough, mecha started appearing on the streets again, peering inside broken windows and switching lights on. They all watched as the large mech passed. Even an Enforcer stepped aside with a nod. Despite fewer lights than usual, he recognized where they were now.

A familiar wall appeared around the next turn, scored from many sharp needle legs, but still standing. Rocketing out of the gate, Star Convoy drove towards them before transforming and skidding to a halt on his pedes before them, already reaching for Bumblebee. He giggled at the impressive move and leapt into his patron’s arms to be crushed in a hug. He let Star Convoy’s relieved murmurs just wash over him, suddenly exhausted.

“His left doorwing was bitten, and his vocalizer needed a hard reset, but otherwise he seemed perfectly fine on the surface,” the great mech rumbled. “The mecannibal has been taken care of.”

“Thank you sir, thank you,” Star Convoy said, not loosening his grip on Bumblebee. “We didn’t know how to track him down. Thank you.”

“Anyone left without a means to help themselves should be provided assistance, no matter who they are. Sparkling or adult, junker or noble, all frames and functions.” His voice was no different than before, but it filled the street all of a sudden, and Bumblebee lifted his head to watch and saw several bystanders do the same. “No Enforcer barricade should stand between a child and safety. What kind of person would stay and do nothing if given the power to choose the moral thing instead of the legal thing?”

The mech ducked his head to catch Bumblebee’s optic and held out a fist. Bumblebee tapped a giant knuckle enthusiastically, and he quirked a smile.

“What kind of Decepticon would I be?”

“Thank you, Galvatron,” Star Convoy said again as the mech turned to leave, unaffected by the gazes of everyone around him.

Bumblebee watched him go, drowsy but fighting off recharge. Decepticon, huh?

Maybe he could be a big heroic Decepticon one day.

[boyvidae]

shiny pichu, ~2300 eggs. going to be an alolan raichu! haven't decided on a name yet. very happy.

[princesslocket]

Random Nosaichi AU's 🌟

What if in an alternate timeline Ichihoshi was never taken to Russia to join Orion after the car accident & was instead taken in by Ares?! He & Nosaka would became friends while being in the Ares system BUT they'd only ever be able to talk when Nosaka went to visit Ichihoshi in the hospital...

AU where Ichihoshi is a rookie designer trying his best to make it in the fashion industry & one day he just so happens to get partnered up with a popular model, named Nosaka Yuuma, for a small "aspiring young designers competition." At first, the two barely talk. They just meet to discuss plans, schedules, wardrobe checks/fittings, etc. But over the time they start spending time together outside of their jobs. They slowly grow into close friends and maybe even into boyfriends after the fashion competition ends...

KH AU where Nosaka is Ichihoshi’s dream eater~ He's still a human but like he has bat wings & the crown scar on his back now has the dream eater symbol placed under it

Pokémon AU where Ichihoshi goes out of his way to hunt down a shiny applin for Nosaka- He would spend days on end roaming around the Galar region in hopes of catching one until one the day he finally decides to give up... And just as he's heading home, A SHINY APPLIN SUDDENLY SHOWS UP!!! He'd catch it in either a premier or loveball & quickly call Nosaka, asking to meet up in Wyndon. AND THEN WHILE HE'S SITTING IN THE PLAZA WAITING HE SUDDENLY REALIZES WHAT HE'S ABOUT TO DO AND LET'S OUT A SCREECH SO LOUD PASSERBYS STOP TO STARE - So anyways... Nosaka shows up before Ichihoshi has a chance to cancel their meet-up. They end up standing around both silently waiting for the other to speak. Ichihoshi's on the verge of a mental breakdown when he suddenly hears a little cooing of some sort. He looks up to find Nosaka holding a shiny Applin of his own, offering it to Ichihoshi with the kindest smile ever and just- ICHIHOSHI IS SO SUPRISED THAT HE LITERALLY BURSTS INTO TEARS AS HE LETS OUT THE APPLIN HE HAD GOTTEN NOSAKA!!! Cue an adorable trade off Applins and boom! Several months later Nosaka & Ichihoshi are sitting under a shaded tree in the Wild Area watching their shiny Appleturn & Flapple chasing after a shooting star. ((Bonus - Nosaka obtained his shiny Applin after several hundred tripsto the Daycare)).

Nosaichi Love Potion AU where Ichihoshi accidently gives Nosaka a brownie that contains a love spell inside it. ((The spells makes the person who ate it fall in love with the person who gave it to them)). At first nothing happens, but an hour later and then you find Nosaka holding ((a very flustered)) Ichihoshi's hand. Some people start to question Nosaka and his only response he keeps giving is; "Sometimes you just want to be with that special someone" to which earns him some questioning stares. Later on, Ichihoshi starts to piece together what may have caused this sudden change in Nosaka because by the time soccer practice starts Nosaka is practically clingy to his back. - It's ultimately Nishikage who figures out what this is & what exactly spell was used & how to break it - So when he gives Ichihoshi instructions on how to end the love spells, Ichihoshi leads Nosaka to an empty classroom to break the spell in private. But when he's about to go into the actions of lifting the spell SUPRISE SUPRISE! Nosaka reveals that he hadn't been under any spell at all. ((The love spell wouldn't be able to work if the person receiving it already had feelings for the person who was giving it to them)) So this whole time, he had just been acting on his own feelings. After hearing this Ichihoshi bursts into tears, they're a mix of embarrassment and relief, since he didn't actually want to break the spell... But now that he knows Nosaka actually likes him back he can't help but feel ten times happier than he had already been. Side Note: Ichihoshi had originally bought the brownie from a bake sale that morning. He had thought it looked good and bought it without question. Meanwhile, the students who were selling it were actually part of a secret spell casters club that very few knew about. -- Nosaka had visited the bake sell earlier, already knowing by now what kind of spells were in each food item ((don't ask)) and had left without buying anything. But when Ichihoshi offered him a brownie later that day, he couldn't just say no. So he accepted it, ate it, and staged a plan to act like the brownie had effected him, thinking Ichihoshi had known about the brownies spell. However, when he found out Ichihoshi had no clue what was even in the brownie, he decided to up his game and do everything he could to flustered Ichihoshi until he found out the truth about the brownie.

Weathering With You AU with Nosaka being known as the "sunshine boy" while Ichihoshi is "runaway." They'd meet by chance one rainy night where Nosaka saves Ichihoshi right before he can do something bad. And like the two of them start peacefully living/working together until authorative figures come looking for Ichihoshi. ((Side Note- Nishikage & Saginuma would be the in the story as well!!! They'd be dating/work partners that take Ichihoshi in early on)).

[johaerys-writes]

Once Upon A Dream

Fandom: The Song of Achilles Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

Prompt: Reincarnation!AU

This is my entry for Day 1 of @patrochillesweek 2020, where reincarnated Achilles and Patroclus meet in Victorian London! I hope you enjoy :)

Read here or on AO3!

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

The rain pattered softly against the roof of the carriage as the horses pulled it through the grand gates of Lord Angove’s estate. It was just an hour’s drive from London, away from the bustle of the city, yet to me it seemed like the entire city had somehow found itself there. The long carriageway was filled with coaches, horse hooves clopping on the now muddy ground, lords and ladies in their finest outfits crowding before the manor’s entrance. In the dusk that was falling, the lit up windows looked like stars, gates into another realm, perhaps. It appeared almost dreamy, in the way the golden light of lamps and crystal chandeliers flickered and trembled, in sharp contrast to the darkening sky, to the shiny black wood of the coaches, the elaborately dressed figures that wove amongst each other like schools of fish, languidly drifting in warm, tropical waters.

“Let’s go,” my father said gruffly as soon as the carriage had stopped, snapping me out of my reverie.

The raindrops dampened the top of my head, the shoulders of my fine coat. It was amongst the finest I owned; my father had insisted I wear it, though it made me feel even more out of place than I already did. I followed him up the glossy marble steps, through the manor entrance, into the grand ballroom the footmen led us to. Chatter rose from every corner. Luxurious and decadent it was, without a doubt, with high, domed ceilings and elaborately carved columns, with exotic plants and odd artifacts that graced the walls. Lord Angove’s trading ships went far and wide, and they often brought back animals that no one had ever seen before, spices that burnt your tongue if you tried them, wines that were said to steal one’s wits after a couple swigs. The entire room seemed to be an extravagant display of wealth. Father disliked Lord Angove, of course, as he did most people. Including myself.

“Stand straight,” he hissed at me. “Don’t slouch.”

I sighed. “Yes, Father.” I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin. It was a hot evening despite the rain, and the scent of wet earth that drifted through the open windows mingled with the smell of freshly poured wines, of fine perfumes, of food being cooked in the kitchens below. I slipped a finger below my collar and carefully loosened it, taking in a breath. I hadn’t wanted to come, but Father had insisted upon it; so, I had acquiesced. And now I was paying for it, with a head that was already heavy and sore, and an undershirt that was slowly, yet steadily, growing damper.

I sipped on the sweet, red wine in my glass, wishing it was cool instead of uncomfortably lukewarm, when a wave of laughter drew my attention to the far end of the room, where a cluster of people gathered. Someone amongst them had just said a joke, I presumed, a rather hilarious one, judging by their reaction. That someone was standing in their midst, sipping on his wine, eyes glittering with mischief and satisfaction while the others howled. They were all young lords, their clothes were fine and well made, much finer than mine. Frills and ruffles, silks and velvets, thread of gold and silver embroideries on their sleeves, their doublets, their expensive vests. Perfectly groomed hair, beards and moustaches on comely faces, yet they all looked coarse and dull compared to the man they were all so affectionately peering at. His garb was simple compared to theirs, his hair gathered in a simple tail at the nape of his neck, strands of spun gold that glittered in the light as he moved. The colour of his skin was rich and slightly tan, like he’d been under the sun all day. He had this air about him, polite yet just a touch indifferent, like the doings of those around him did not interest him as much as they all assumed they did. Graceful, yet casually unaware of it; eyes as keen and sharp as a hunting cat’s. He smiled when someone whispered something in his ear. Peony coloured lips widened over teeth white as peeled almonds, and it seemed to me that the room grew a little brighter; he laughed, and his chin that lifted slightly exposed the soft, fawn-smooth skin of his throat.

I caught myself staring, and quickly looked away, but curiosity nagged at me. Who was this man?

“The Prince,” my father said, having noticed me watching.

I gaped at him. “The Prince? I thought he was studying in Rome.” So, that explained his tanned complexion, the golden, sun-kissed hair. Or did it?

“He’s recently returned,” Father continued. “The King’s health is failing, and he has been called for. He’s the most sought after bachelor right now. Dozens of families are clamouring for his hand. Soon, he’ll be the most powerful man in England.” He shot me a sharp and harshly appraising look. “This is what a son should be like.”

His words drove through me, like a lance. I pressed my lips firmly together, looked away from him. I hadn’t asked to be the way I was. I hadn’t asked to be small and weak and unremarkable in every way. I hadn’t even asked to be there, in that stifling, suffocating room, yet there I was. And no one was thanking me for it, or looking at me with glittering eyes, like they all seemed to look at him.  

The man in the distance said something again, and the others laughed and cheered, raising their glasses to him. Anger rose in me, slow and dull; and something else, something dark and sinister, like jealousy, that coated my tongue and made it taste bitter like bad almonds. Prince, I sneered, inside my head.

As if he had heard my thought, his gaze snapped to mine. Green and vibrant, twin emeralds that sharpened and focused on me. I stood, frozen, a deer before bright lights. Everything around me faded in the background, the people, the music, the jests and the songs. It was like time had stopped, and there was nothing else in the world, other than the two of us, gazing at each other from a great distance.

I jerked my eyes away, feeling heat travelling up my cheeks. It was not polite to stare. I shouldn’t have done it, yet something tugged at me, something that I couldn’t quite decipher. I turned back to him, but his attention had been diverted elsewhere once more. He seemed to have entirely forgotten I was there. He probably had.

Later, after the food had been served in the expansive hall and everyone had eaten and drank their fill, I had no desire to remain in the stuffy room. While my father talked with Lord Bramante about the King and the current state of affairs, I quietly slipped away, leaving the talk, music and commotion behind me. A few servants eyed me warily and bowed hastily when they passed me by in the otherwise empty corridors of the manor, and I nodded in acknowledgement, hoping that I hadn’t strayed too far, into areas of the house I was not supposed to be. At that moment, though, it didn’t feel like I wasn’t really supposed to be anywhere. The day had dragged on, and I was weary, and I wanted nothing more than to return to my own house, in my own room, and lock myself away from that world that did not agree with me.

I had heard that Lord Angove was a lover of the arts, and that was no lie. I passed room after room whose walls were almost entirely covered by frescos and large paintings, depicting idyllic scenes or scenes of battle from famous legends and stories. I followed them curiously, standing before this one or the other, noticing their details, the soft or dynamic brushstrokes, the colours, the emotions. There was one in particular I wanted to see, one that was said the Lord had acquired at great expense, painted by an artist who was supposed to be a master of his craft and had been dead for at least a hundred years. It would be hidden in some of the inner rooms, I guessed, so I followed the trail, looking for it. When I finally found it, I realised I was not the only one that sought to admire a piece such as that.

The Prince was standing before it. He was alone this time, without his loud entourage. He somehow seemed even more kingly without it. He looked serene, entirely absorbed; his silence and stately grace his only companions. I stood at the door, unsure whether I should intrude upon his quiet meditation or withdraw before he had noticed my presence. Before I’d managed to make up my mind, he turned to look at me with those keen, feline eyes of his.

“Come,” he told me, and his voice carried that effortless command that seemed to come so naturally to him. I obeyed, though somewhat grudgingly. I disliked being told what to do, yet he was the Prince. The heels of my shoes clicked on the polished marble floor as I approached, coming to stand beside him. His gaze had drifted from me to the painting before him once more.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked. His voice was bright and clear like freshly melted snow, with a soft cadence to it that reminded me of the sighing of mountain winds, the trill of songbirds hidden in thick foliage, maple leaves stirring with the breeze. A stream flowing over polished rocks. Rose quartz crystals glittering in the morning light. Painted constellations on a domed cave roof.

Orion, I thought to myself, conjuring the shape of the stars in my mind. The Pleiades.  

I started at my own knowledge. I didn’t remember ever studying the names of constellations. I did not even know that place that sprung up in my memories, yet it felt like I did. Like I had been there, once. Perhaps in a dream.

I took a breath to clear my head and looked up at the large, magnificent painting, brushing the odd images away. The scene depicted was a large and messy one; a proud warrior was standing on his chariot, his golden armour glinting in the sun, his spear poised to be thrown, while scores of horses and chariots ran behind him. Awe gripped me the more I stared at it. “It is,” I replied, softly, as if scared to disturbed the man in the painting from his sacred mission.

“Are you familiar with the story of Achilles?”

“Of course,” I said. “Who isn’t?” My tutor had made me memorise the entire first book of the Iliad when I was little, had made me recite it to him word for word. I was never drawn to ancient myths and legends of battle, their ferocity felt odd and foreign to me, yet the legend of Achilles always held a place of wonder in my heart. A fearless warrior, the son of a goddess, a god himself- a human. A friend. A sworn and loyal companion. His devotion always at odds with his might, his arrogance, his hubris. How could I not know about his story? How could I not be drawn to it?

The Prince nodded, his hands folded at the base of his spine, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “Do you believe that he and Patroclus were lovers?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to ask.

I choked in the act of swallowing, and my lungs spasmed in a fierce coughing fit. I wheezed and gasped through it, glancing wildly around me. If anyone had been there to hear-  I did not even want to think about what they would have thought. Lovers? I shivered. Such statements, such words were unthinkable, unutterable, unnatural.  

I did not want to admit that the very same thought had troubled me for nights on end.

He was watching me calmly, his gaze steady, while I gaped at him, my eyes wide as saucers.

“No,” I croaked, “of course not. They were friends, companions, not- not that. ” I blinked, and something like hope rose in me, swelling in my throat. “Weren’t they?”

He turned back to the painting. He stayed silent for a moment before he said, “Would you lay waste to an entire city for a friend?”

“If… if it was a good friend.”

“Would you keep his dead body in your room for days?”

“I-”

“Would you ask to be buried with him, for his ashes to be mingled with yours after you died?” His eyes focused on me, steady and relentless. “Those of your friend?”

I would, if it were you.

The thought came to my mind suddenly, unbidden. It was one of my own thoughts, yet it did not feel like mine. It was as if there was someone else whispering at me, or some hidden, forgotten part of me, struggling to break through. It shocked me to my very core, as much as it gripped and pulled at me. At that moment, as we gazed at each other, I knew it that, should he die, the world would lose something irreplaceable. Something beautiful and bright and true, and wasn’t that a crime to make all other crimes pale in comparison?

I tried to look away, tear my gaze from his but I was caught, pinned, unable to do anything else other than return his stare. His eyes were seas of forest green, and I was wading through them, breathless and eager to get somewhere, to find something. What, I did not know.

My mouth was dry when I tried to speak. "I… am not sure," I managed finally, after what felt like ages. "Perhaps."

He watched me in silence for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, softer than it had been. "It always makes me wonder," he said. "The depth of his devotion. The magnitude of his grief. His… love. Simply put. I do not understand it, yet it pulls at me. It begs to be understood. To be made sense of." The Prince's attention was on me entirely now, as if there was nothing and no one else in the world for him right then. He tilted his head to the side, studying me. "Have we met before? I swear you look familiar."

There was no haughtiness to his expression, no mock or ridicule. There was interest, and earnest curiosity, as if my answer would shift something significant inside him.

"I don't believe so,” I replied, the words catching in my throat. “I'm sure I would remember." He was indeed familiar, I realised. I studied the contours of his face, sculptor perfect, the smooth skin that stretched over his brow. I followed the line of his jaw with my eyes, the tendons of his delicate throat. There was a grace in those features, soft like a woman's, but angular and precise at the same time. He looked like no one else I’d ever seen, yet I knew I’d seen him somewhere before. I knew, with a certainty that startled me, that I knew him.

The sound of his laugh, rich and clear like a babbling brook. His hair under the bright midsummer sun. The amber light of a fire catching in the emerald depths of his eyes. His hand in mine. Moments of happiness and grief, of quiet contemplation, and moments when my heart beat so hard I thought it would burst. A thousand little moments, like fireflies in the night, crowding forward.

“Maybe in a dream,” I whispered, before I’d even realised I’d spoken.

He considered my words carefully, holding my gaze, as if I’d said something of great wisdom.

“Yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “In a dream.”

The rain, soft like distant whispers, pattered gently against the window panes.