#i like to think they're the equivalent

[psalidodont]

'' The fiercest of them all, the Twilight terror. Dangerous dragons that lurk the night skies, feared amongst us Hunters as the death from above. Twilight terrors are hard to deal with, they show no sign or warning as to when they're gonna show up, specially during food raids. These hell spawns cause wildfires to hunt whatever sick animal perishes engulfed by the flames, and therefore by extension, us. It is adviced by more experienced higher ups to keep their mouths closed before they get the chance of turning everything into char, they have a powerful fire that can easily cook you alive. Other than that avoid confronting these dragons IF possible. ''

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[qoldenskies]

are there any rottmnt pjo aus out there because i think there should be

[zirconpetals]

Thinking about Spock trying to warm up(?) McCoy's hands...

[diino8081]

swap au or something

ekko -> viktor

viktor -> jinx

jinx -> ekko

i read this fic and got inspired. it doesn't follow the canon to it but it inspired me (do check it out though it's really cool)

if you got any au questions then throw em at me (i've only watched arcane once tho so i might not have answers)

(more in the tags)

[urghblergh]

Star Trek TOS Screenshot Redraw VI, but make it gay(er). 🌌

[reddamselette]

just realized while rewatching aot that before i had jean and jeremy, i had jean and armin and i think that says a lot.

[spockcock]

Actively disturbed by the fact Dan and Phil are t'hy'la (Vulcan word used to indicate people with a close bond; essentially translates to a combination friend, brother, and lover. Used most often to reference the characters Kirk and Spock as something like soulmates or spouses)

[garvalhaminho]

oooh fictional characters who are driven by academic validation and need to be reminded that they are needed and loved and not a nuisance and feel the need to be independent are the spectacular give me fourteen of them right now

[veifei]

body for rent (at the end of the line)

(or a VeiFei ficlet in which Xia Fei agrees, to something. it's all subtext and suggestion, really — read into it however you like)

The underground roars as the train cuts through a long tunnel and engulfs the train carriage in momentary darkness — Vein's stare like a laser piercing Xia Fei's skull, intruding, unyielding; he says something Xia Fei doesn't catch, something swallowed by the screech of the train.

His ears pop from the air pressure. Vein's hand settles on Xia Fei's knee, like it has always belonged there. Still, the carriage shrouded in little light, still, the words caught in his throat — he swallows them with an easy smile. Vein's cool cologne — eucalyptus? — dizzying him as he leans in close, fingers pressing and digging into his jeans. Xia Fei tips his head closer, until Vein's lips ghost the shell of his ear, breath warm, words low:

"I said, just how willing are you, sweetheart?" his voice drips with sweet venom.

"Well... I'll do exactly as you like, Vein." 

At that, he grins, wide enough that the yellow flickering lights catching his too sharp canines. The glint in his eye is animal, Xia Fei knows. But he can't stand to look away. Under Vein's watchful, hungry gaze, he might just shine. Might be seen. 

"A-Xiao was right — you are the perfect little doll."

Out of the dark now, bouts of daylight fall in and out the near empty carriage. They're coming towards the end of the line.

Xia Fei does know the risk, but he leans in anyway, eager for the reward.

[martianbugsbunny]

Crowley like, never eats stuff when he and Aziraphale are on one of their meal dates, so I'm going to go ahead and headcanon that during one of their earlier meals he ordered but never actually ate his food, and Aziraphale was like "you gonna finish that? it's a shame to let such good food go to waste" and Crowley was like "have at it" so now every time they go out together Crowley orders something he knows Aziraphale will like and doesn't eat it on purpose so Aziraphale can have it

[lunagames]

I'm of the opinion that Zestial and Carmilla had and have wildly different opinions on Alastor, though Zestial's opinion probably didn't shift all too much overtime.

Now Carmilla is just a bit annoyed at the drama queen that is Alastor, but I do believe that she was concerned at the beginning of his appearance. Like dude just took out half her meeting room of overlords in a matter of weeks, that ain't fitting into her statistics. She likes control, she likes knowing what will happen and planning for it.

So, she probably met with Zestial to discuss this in a 'is this a normal problem or something we need to do something about'-way only to be met with a 'funniest thing to have happened in three centuries' banner.

[buttercupshands]

As you might've noticed I now learned to use <3

Be scared, because I'll use it like a weapon from now on <3

[stephofromcabin12]

YOU MENTIONED BOJANGLES!! IM SO PROUD THANK YOU FOR TGE REAL NC REPRESENTATION

WHY YES OF COURSE! I am always terrified of accidentally being insensitive (ocd tendencies who? where?) so I have kept NOTES from all the NC peeps sending me the lore bc I want to make it believable.

Trust that if you send me NC facts, I will keep them stashed away with my story notes bc I like to learn and also not write about stuff I don't know at all lol.

[princessmacedon]

“for you, Maria—i do hope you’re not already full,” Ferdinand said with a glint of mischief behind his smile, presenting a small, ribbon-tied box nestled carefully in both his palms.

inside, arranged neatly and lovingly by hand, were homemade cookies—golden and just slightly crisped at the edges, still soft at their centers. each cookie was shaped like a different emblem of strength: a tiny sword, a lion, a shield, and one—his favorite—shaped like a heart, piped delicately with purple icing in the shape of a small sprig of lavender.

“I’ve been told these taste best after a hard-won battle,” he added, as if he hadn’t spent the night before fussing over the dough like a man determined to invent the culinary equivalent of bravery.

“they're for the kind of strength that doesn't always get applause,” Ferdinand said, voice softening. “like the strength to keep standing when others expect you to sit. or the strength to heal, even when others see only softness.”

he gave a slight, sheepish shrug—"and, well… they’re also quite good with tea.”

he added, a little firmer, “but don’t let anyone tell you strength and sweetness don’t belong in the same hand. you remind me they always have.”

"Ferdie! Oh, but it's okay if I'm a little full, isn't it?" Mischief for mischief; her eyes twinkle as she accepts the proffered box. "Then I have more time to admire them!"

Which is exactly what she does, peeling the lid from the container only to gasp softly. It's obvious even at a glance how much effort went into this. After all, decorating shaped cookies? The very first time she'd tried, she'd fought for her life just to smear ungainly globs of frosting over them only to have crumbs come away with the knife. (To her credit, however, it may have been proportionally impressive compared to her grand age of five at the time.)

"Wow...! Ferdie, these are beautiful! The shapes, and the colors..." Affection stitches itself into her smile twice over; what a labor it must have been! She looks up at him there, says nothing for a moment but sees him -- all the effort he devotes, and all the words spoken not for what he has done, but for the people in front of him.

"It must have been a lot of work," she answers appreciatively. "But they came out so prettily! Maybe I'll even have to ask you to teach me some tricks, hee hee!"

Picking one up (and it is so very hard to choose!), Maria eventually settles on the lion, holding it up in front of herself and giggling a moment later -- once for how adorable, frankly, the cookie is; a second time for the kind words that follow.

"'The strength to keep standing when others expect you to sit,'" she echoes softly. Then: "What about the strength to really see the people around you? And to make beautiful cookies for a sillyhead's silly question?" (It's her; she's the sillyhead. What she sowed in gentle comfort then, she reaps now in a toothy grin.)

"What if we split the first cookie, at least? By your standards, you deserve it just as much as I do! Hee hee." Her expression softens for a moment, appreciative. "You always work so hard, Ferdie. I admire it a lot... so if you don't split this cookie with me, then you must let me make you some tea! Okay? Heeheehee!"