Heyyy, Noticed You Said That You're Confused About Megatron (what With D-16 And Megatronus Being Thrown

You know what I haven't seen yet? A scene where someone has to tell something to Snape, something he won't like, and Snape listens stonefaced while sharpening two knives against each other.

He is not even looking at the other person while the unlucky messenger is talking, sweating bullets, watching the glint of the knives.

And then, whatever that person was there to say is finally said and Snape freezes, knives still in his hands. He slowly turns and lifts an eyebrows, daring the poor idiot to repeat themselves.

So they flee, or faint or start babling something.

It's just... I've encountered a post of Snape using cooking skills in potions while half-asleep (which gave me this idea), but I've never read this.

Psycho Delic: Oh please, you wouldn't hurt a fly

Megamind: You're right

Megamind: Because a fly is an innocent, unsuspecting creature that never knowingly did anything to anyone

Psycho Delic:

Megamind: You, however, I would maim

I am looking for a Percy Jackson fanfiction. I read the 5 first books a long while ago, so I don't remember much. But I am looking for a fic that has Dionysus as some kind of uncle/father figure to all demigods.

Now, I know this is fully ooc, but he is the one with the best chances of understanding what it is like to be in their place because he used to be a demigod himself. I read the book of Percy Jackson narrating the stories of the Olympians and there he explained how Dionysus mother was a demigod, daughter of Poseidon, I think.

Hera was responsible for a lot of shit that happened to him afterwards.

He would know what it's like to be mortal, to have friends and a loving and very HUMAN family and have it taken away from you for something that was not your doing.

Then, he married Ariadna, a princess and mortal made immortal so they'd be able to be together. That's when his dislike for demigods started, but really, I don't think that to be enough for him to hate them, not really.

And he cares about his own children, he showed it. I think he has only one set of children too. And being at camp means that he is probably the most present parent of every Olympian.

My point, I want a fic where he clearly is angry at the rest of the Olympians for their treatment to their children but tries so much to hide it, where he is sick and fed up of watching for centuries how they play with kids like they were toys, how they abandon them to survive in a world that essentially wants them dead. I want him to be sick of watching them pay for the broken plates they didn't even touch, of the unfair punishments and the times when one of them is killed or cursed by one Olympian because of what other Olympian too powerful to be attacked did (*cof*Zeus and Hera*cofcof*).

I want him there, not knowing what to do to help, wanting to help but being unable to. He was forbidden of drinking wine by Zeus, he was basically expelled from his own domain. How much influence over him does Zeus then posses?

I want Dionysus angry and furious with the Olympians.

I want him resenting Quiron too, maybe, for sending demigod after demigod on quests. Maybe just at the beginning, until they reach some understanding. Until they get each other a bit better, until they understand that they are on the same page.

I want Dionysus worried and annoyed and doing his best to keep the other kids at arms length but unable to.

I want him trying so desperately to pretend that ge doesn't care and doesn't want to be there because he is worried, worried for the kids that go on quests, worried for those who leave camp after summer, for those who haven't reached camp yet, for those who just arrived and just can't understand yet what is happening and have no idea... They think the worst is over but it isn't, it never is...

And he is worried, over all, that if any of the others ever finds out just how much he actually cares, they will take everything away from him.

Due to my ignorance regarding canon, I shouldn't be allowed to write this, but there's noone there to stop me.

So, I have this concept or idea that being an archivist in Cybertron meant that the people in charge extracted most of the information straight from the archivists' heads. Sure, there were pads, but what if simply writing was considered too unproductive and slow? And what about editing and crossreferencing? It was obviously better to leave all that to the mechs more experienced, and for that they needed direct access to the information recopilated. Naturally, the cleverest way to achive that was extracting the data right from the archivists' heads.

So they simply went and connected with the processors of their archivists. It wasn't bad, at first. But the poor archivists, those little bots didn't know anything about writing or editing, they didn't know what was important and what was supposed to be left out, so the mechs in charge decided that whatever was in their minds needed to be reviewed and then it would be up to them to decide what was relevant enough to be recorded.

With time, the archivists became little more than glorified cameras. It was their duty to record and give the information away, they had to give absolute access to their processors, they couldn't complain, least of all refuse.

One fine day in Cybertron, Orion Pax was sparked.

This system was already fully developed, Orion was born into it, it's how it had always been so it had to be good, right? It had worked so far and he'd never heard anyone complaining, he'd never had to complain.

But as he began to grow, as he learnt more, explored more of the world and himself, he realised that there were things he didn't want to share.

Things that were embarrassing or too personal. Things that were private, things that were inappropriate to share with people he didn't trust.

He tried to refuse one time. He was restrained and his superiors entered his mind against his will. He tried to keep them out, he tried, but he couldn't and it hurt.

He tried again, and again, and again. He no longer bothered with voicing his disagreement, his refusal, but he tried to stop them, to keep them away from the bits that were supposed to be his. It was painful, it was dangerous, this push and pull inside his own processor hurt him every time. Until it got nearly fried.

From then on, every time his superiors needed to extract information from him, they simply disconnected Orion temporarily.

The funny thing Orion realised afterwards was that his superiors could have done that since the beginning. Why hadn't they?

The answer was all over the Archives, in the side eyes of the other mechs, in the whispers, the looks thrown to the archivists whose secrets were all over the place, maybe all over Cybertron.

Not "important enough" to be recorded, never respected enough to be kept quite. But apparently, highly entertaining.

So Orion became careful. He became measured in his actions, feelings and speech. Hyperaware of his movements and thoughts.

The Academy was his chance. He did his best and failed, but he never had to go back to the Archives.

Now he was far away, another planet, another galaxy. Constant danger, constant fighting. But his thoughts, his feelings... Optimus Prime was the sole owner.

What's the point of this little idea aside from the additional angst?

Simply consider Megatronus, the gladiator who was made to fight in the arena in a kill or be killed spectacle for the masses.

Megatronus wasn't the owner of his own body.

Orion had no say over his own mind.

What a fun thing to bond over! 😊

Ok, so...

Is there any Transformers fic (megop if possible), where Optimus is a little (a LOT) less tolerant of everyone's shit?

All my Tf knowledge comes from fics and you are free to tell me I'm stupid, but anyways.

From what I've read in TfA the Autobots on Earth were a sort of repairing crew and had been sent there, which was like sending them to some remote corner of the Universe. So it sounded like glorified exile.

In TfP Orion used to be an archivist.

In TfO he was a miner.

And in both cases he used to be Megatron's friend.

Again, correct me if I'm wrong.

So, why not get an Optimus that is just kind of sick of Cybertrone and its BS? It could just be him not wanting to deal with politics while trying to protect people. And you know how sometimes some writers feature Megatron trying to make Optimus question his loyalty to Cybertrone and OP gets an existential crisis? Well, couldn't Optimus just for once laugh at Megatron's face and be like...

"Of course they don't give a shit about us! Did you think I'm doing all this for Ultra Magnus? Or Sentinel? I'm fighting for my friends and family whose lives you actively threaten every fragging day!"

And so Optimus cuts Megatron's crap on the spot because how dare he try to act all high an mighty? Try to fool him just like all those assholes he preaches against?

Let him go feral from time to time, let OP go violent and rabid with rage and maim some bots. Megatron and the highter ups should watch what that mech is really capable of.

People keep making fanarts of D-16 meeting TfP Optimus and being absolutely enamoured with him. And, honestly? Understandable, D-16, you poor, little mech.

And I've seen one of Orion also meeting Megatron and calling him ugly, which was hilarious.

But consider:

The four meet, just like in the fanart I mentioned, and D-16 is practically drooling at the sigh of Optimus while having a mayor internal freak out because somehow Orion went from chaotic and ridiculously pretty rebel to some sort of beautiful and incredible hero. At the same time he looks at Megatron, who appears so fearsome and angry, even hateful, and then at Orion, sweet, kind Orion, watching Megatron unblinking.

"You're incredible," breathed Orion, smiling up softly at the tall mech.

And both D-16 and Megatron flinched, stunned because how could he? How could Orion Pax say that? Worst of all, how could he mean it?

Megatron knew that tone of voice, he knew that look in the small mech eyes. He was being honest, he said what he thought, just the way he thought it. That awed note on his voice, the amazed spark on his optics, it was all so painfully truthful and Megatron didn't know what to do with it all.

Then he turned to his old self, the one who had finally stopped staring at Optimus to look at his best friend with confusion, paired with adoration and barely concealed longing.

Orion finally noticed D's yellow optics on him. He turned and smiled, bright and happy.

Megatron knew then that Orion hadn't understood. And it made sense, after all Pax would never expect D-16 to turn into... Into Megatron.

But maybe, the most surprising part was just how much it hurt, to realise that Orion could still look at him like this, and that if he could do it, then maybe...

Nah, that was impossible.

The little pawn got sick of chess,

so it took the knight's sword,

and slayed both kings by itself.

The Stone On The Wall

What if instead of giving the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard, Bilbo waits to give it to Thorin on the ramparts?

Chapter 1 of (?)

I will also be posting this to my AO3 once I figure out how to format over there (it has been so long)

@marvelruinedmyspirit @moralesmarkers <3

Bilbo wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but here he was. Climbing up to the ramparts to join the dwarves, Thorin cursing at Thranduil in Khuzdul. He’d have to ask Balin for some books to learn, maybe use it to surprise the others after this is all over. What was Thorin yelling about? Bilbo had been late climbing up, having difficulty maneuvering around the broken statues used as steps. The Arkenstone felt heavy in his jacket, a reminder as to what they were here for. Thorin switched to the common tongue, bellowing out for all to hear. “I will not part with a single piece of gold from this mountain, not until we find the Arkenstone! Then, I will be king under the mountain. I will have no further talk with outsiders. Leave!” This was it. This was the opportunity to show Thorin the stone, maybe then he would come to his senses and work with Bard and Thranduil. Pulling together all the courage he had, Bilbo clambered up to stand on the stone wall shielding the dwarves. “Wait! Thorin, wait. I found it. I found the Arkenstone,” Bilbo breathed out hastily, pulling the stone from the inside of his jacket to show Thorin he was telling the truth, “Don’t burn the bridges you’ve barely built, we can work together!” With that, he held the stone high for all to see. The company cheered, Thorin loudest of all.

Bilbo was grinning ear to ear, starting to pull the stone closer to him. That was when he felt it, a small stabbing pain in his back. He staggered forward, losing his footing on the barrier. He felt himself start to slip off the edge, just as he was slipping from consciousness. The last thing he heard were the dwarves and Gandalf yelling before he succumbed to the darkness.

Nori was the closest to Bilbo when he started to slip, and he lunged forward to grab the hobbit by his ankle. The others were cursing, and he could see Kili stringing his bow, trying to see what had caused the hobbit to collapse. Bofur rushed to Nori’s side, grabbing Bilbo to help pull him up. Down below he could see chaos unfolding. Thranduil and Bard were trying to figure out if one of their men had attacked while Gandalf charged towards the wall. Once Nori and Bofur had pulled Bilbo up and over the wall, they placed him down on his side while Oin rushed over to check for wounds. As Oin got down to look properly, he noticed something sticking out of Bilbo’s back. He pulled it out and saw it was a dart with a barbed tip, possibly coated in a paralyzing agent. It was crudely made, so it could not have been from an elf. He looked up as he heard Fili shouting at Kili, “Over there! On the side of the mountain!” Kili released his arrow, hitting the orc trying to escape square in the back of his head. Looking back down, Oin rolled Bilbo onto his back to check for any severe side effects of the dart. There were no obvious side effects, so Oin relaxed a little at that. He looked up to see what was happening, only to notice Dwalin and Dori holding Thorin back from throwing himself over the side of the rampart.

“Get ahold of yourself Thorin! We have bigger problems to worry about than the Arkenstone right now!” Dwalin was trying his best to control his best friend’s temper while also holding him back. The Arkenstone had fallen over the wall with Bilbo, but it had been forgotten about while Nori and Bofur scrambled to save Bilbo. Thorin roared in anger, still fighting against the two dwarves. He needed to see what had become of the stone! It was his birthright, the one thing proving he was worthy to be king. He stopped resisting once he heard Gandalf. “I have the Arkenstone, Thorin Oakenshield. Check on my hobbit, or there will be dire consequences!” Who did Gandalf think he was? Threatening a king, worrying over a mere burglar. Still, if this is what it took to get the stone back, he would do it. He shook Dwalin and Dori off of him before turning towards where Bilbo had been laid down. The rest of the company had gathered around, making sure their burglar was still alive and seeing if Oin needed anything to help him. They backed away when they saw Thorin making his way over, giving him room to drop to his knees to look at Bilbo. 

“What happened?” He barked at Oin, before noticing the dart lying beside Bilbo. Anger surged through him again, realizing his burglar had become a target once he revealed the Arkenstone. ‘His burglar’, Thorin thought to himself. He hadn’t noticed when he started referring to Bilbo as this, instead of just the burglar, but he knew it was not a new development. His head began to swim, anger and concern filling his body. He shot his head up, barking orders. “Fili! Kili! See if any more orcs are waiting to attack, and take Dwalin with you.” They nodded before taking off down the rampart. “Oin, take Nori and see if there are any supplies that can be used to help Bilbo. Do you think he can be moved safely?” Oin furrowed his brow before responding, “I’m not sure what was used on the dart, but he should be brought down so I can examine him better.” Thorin nodded, before slipping his arms under the burglar, standing up while lifting Bilbo with him. He made sure to not jostle him too much, unsure of what the dart had caused. Oin and Nori rushed down the steps, Bofur and Ori following, turning around now and then to make sure Thorin didn’t slip while carrying Bilbo. Dori and Balin followed close behind, leaving Gloin, Bifur, and Bombur on the rampart to stay on the lookout. 

Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, Thorin noticed that Bofur and Ori had moved some of the debris to the side to create a spot for him to place Bilbo. Kneeling down, he gently placed Bilbo onto the hard stone. He thought about taking off his coat to place underneath the hobbit but thought against it as he did not want to draw too much attention to the care he was giving. He stood back up, just as Oin and Nori came back with bottles of various medicinal herbs and liquids. He stepped to the side to give them room to lay out the bottles and work, but hovered nearby to make sure nothing went awry.

Oin busied himself with the herbs he and Nori gathered, throwing some into a bowl before grinding them into a paste. He wasn’t exactly sure what was on the dart, but he could narrow it down since he knew it came from an orc. If it had been elvish, then Bilbo was in deep trouble. Oin set the paste aside before motioning to Nori to help him roll Bilbo onto his side again. He lifted the coat Bilbo was wearing, along with the mithril shirt Thorin had given him. The dart had somehow hit him in just the right spot to get through some of the chains in the mithril. It didn’t penetrate deep into his skin, but it was enough to get whatever was on the dart into his system. He could feel Thorin glowering above him, and had a feeling that if Bilbo were conscious, he would feel Thorin’s eyes boring into him. He made quick work of applying the paste, making sure to fully massage it into the wound. Once he was satisfied with his work, he applied a bandage to cover the paste, allowing it to absorb into the hobbit’s skin without risk of it being rubbed off. He pulled the mithril and his coat back down, before rolling him back onto his back. It would take awhile for the medicine to work, if it did, but in the meantime he would try to come up with something for the hobbit to drink once he came to, to help with any pain or drowsiness. Looking closely at the bottles, he picked out one containing a blue liquid, and mixed it with one containing an orange liquid. Swirling this around, it became an earthy brown mixture that smelled sweet. He set down the bottle and sighed, rubbing his face before smoothing his hair back. All they could do now was wait, and pray to Durin that this worked.

Thorin was pacing now, fidgeting with his hands. He was unable to stay still, trying to think of what could have spurred this attack from the orcs. They knew they were coming to Erebor, but how did they know Bilbo would be the one with the Arkenstone? His head shot up at the sound of pounding footsteps, pulling him from his spiral. Dwalin, Fili, and Kili had returned, out of breath. “Well?” He didn’t even give them time to say anything before continuing, “Are there more? Should we prepare to attack?” Kili spoke up, “We couldn’t find any more scouts nearby, but the elves are growing restless outside. What do you want to do uncle?” Thorin threw his hands up in the air in disgust, “Those filthy tree huggers! They will wait until Bilbo wakes before I even think of going to talk to them. And what of Gandalf? Did you see him with the Arkenstone?” The dwarves looked between each other, worry etched onto their faces before Dwalin stepped forward, “We did not see the wizard, or any sign of the stone.” Before Thorin could spit out more Khuzdul to curse Gandalf, Balin interjected, “Maybe it is best that the Arkenstone is with Gandalf for now, he knows of its value to us and will protect it until he deems it safe enough in our hands. For now, we should focus on the elves and Bilbo.” With that, everyone turned to said hobbit, Oin still sitting beside him watching for any signs of movement.

‘Ghivashel, please awake’ Thorin thought to himself, praying to Durin that his hobbit was alright. He shook his head when he realized what was going through his mind, trying not to dwell on the matter. The burglar had done his job. Thorin was just making sure he kept to his end of the contract, give him his share of the gold and send him home. That was all, nothing more. Before he could turn away to continue pacing, he noticed a twitch in Bilbo’s face. Looking closer, he could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids, as if trying to wake from a deep slumber. He held his breath without realizing it, hoping for another sign that Bilbo was alright. His face broke into a wide grin when the hobbit began to groan and his eyes fluttered open, “Good morning, master burglar.” Bilbo looked around, eyes squinted, before landing on Thorin. “What happened? Where’s the Arkenstone? Were we ambushed?” Thorin’s heart swelled, after everything Bilbo was still most concerned about the company and the Arkenstone.

“Calm down lad, we’re still figuring everything out along with you. You just stay there for a moment while Oin looks you over before we talk a plan.” Balin made quick work to soothe the hobbit, as being the oldest he always knew what to say to calm the others. Oin began to fuss over Bilbo, coaxing him into sitting up so he could drink the medicine without choking. Bilbo coughed a bit at the taste, but managed to get it all down without complaint. “That should help with any pain ya got, especially from hittin’ the wall on yer way down.” Oin collected his bottles and stood up, giving the hobbit room to collect his bearings and breathe.

Bilbo’s head was throbbing, and knew he would have a lump wherever he smacked it. He had faith that the concoction that Oin mixed up would kick in, he just couldn’t think straight at the moment. He looked up at the company, “What exactly happened? I remember being on the wall and then it was like a light went out.” The dwarves exchanged glances, before Thorin cleared his throat. “You were targeted by an orc scout. We believe the moment you held out the Arkenstone, they blew a dart at you, we don’t know why yet.” He held Bilbo’s gaze before continuing, “Fili, Kili, and Dwalin went out to make sure it wasn’t an ambush, and came back with nothing. The Arkenstone fell, but Gandalf claims to have it secured now.” Bilbo felt ashamed at this, he had one job and he had messed it up. Bofur seemed to notice the hobbit’s mood sour at this, so he chimed in, “We were more worried about losin’ you with it, so Nori and I grabbed ya before you were a goner.” He smiled at Bilbo, hoping to cheer him up even if just a little bit. 

Gloin came running down the steps, drawing everyone’s attention. “Thorin! Thranduil and Bard are demanding to see you, and Gandalf is back.” Thorin turned back to face Bilbo once more, “The wizard wishes to make sure you are well. Will you accompany me to show him you are still breathing?” He held his hand out to help the hobbit up, and was glad when it was accepted. After making sure he was steady on his feet, Thorin led the way to the passage out the side of the mountain. Behind him followed Bilbo, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili. He assumed Balin was coming to make sure things stayed civil, and the others were coming in case it didn’t. He had no idea what was going to happen when they got out there, he just needed to make sure it ended with him getting the Arkenstone back.

Have you ever...

Have you ever felt that you need fangs? Have you ever wished for claws?

I don't want to cause pain and sorrow, but I am afraid of my weakness.

How will I trust others when I cannot trust myself, my stregth, my thoughts and feeling?

I want to be big and scary. I want to be the monster in the closet, in the corner, under the bed and the stairs. I want to hide in the dark, so I will never be afraid when the ligths go out.

Have you ever felt that you need fangs?

I'd like to see Severus speaking with Dumbledore, maybe arguing about the children or the war, or remembering Severus' old days at Hogwarts. Maybe talking about the times when Tom used to be a student.

I want Severus to look exhausted at Dumbledore and say:

"What pains me the most is that you genuinely seem to believe that you care."

And then just leave.