#same goes for the warlords

[violet-moonstone]

love being obsessed with an extremely obscure character and appreciating her mostly for headcanons that ive come up with

like shes not an OC but for my purposes, she kinda funtions as one considering how little content she's in

[kacievvbbbb]

Something about Vegapunk using the dna and blood of a caged and experimented on child to create more caged child experiments and the cycles we perpetuate.

Because what does it mean that all that King has left as proof, that the lunarians were real, that they existed as a tribe, as a people, are seven manufactured children he doesn’t even know about, enslaved as weapons to the government that wiped out the culture they’ll never get to be a part of, and Alber himself another enslaved child lost to something he’ll never fully know.

And what of the warlords? Already young once and hurt by their government, young again and slaves to it. Boa looking at a version of her practically pulled out of time stuck in her worst nightmare or Jimbei looking at a version of himself living out a past he escaped by the skin of his teeth but so many he loved didn’t, even Doffy once again at the mercy of the people that already abandoned him, has Kuma not suffered enough? Given enough, is this child version of him doomed to repeat the same path he already could not escape from . Property of the world government, beholden to the celestial dragons, this version of me that cannot go free?

It’s interesting that Vegapunk joined the government so that he could do the most good, but look at the long line of people right infront of him that he’s hurt with his own hands.

[bottombaron]

"nbc Hannibal is a totally different show than WWDITS!" I hear as if Nandor isn't just the complete himbofication of one Hannibal "I laugh at my own jokes and have childish hissy fits when I don't get my way" Lecter

[krys-loves-otome]

So, as a heads up

I'll be spam reblogging some of my old fics for Masamune and my OC Houki as it'll be their shared bday on September 5th.

Reblogs will start at 10:00 AM EST and go to 8:00 PM EST

Overall tag will be Birthday Bash and for individual blocking, Masa's bday tag is happy birthday masa while Houki's is happy birthday houki

Happy birthday to two of my beloveds!

[radfemsiren]

I speak a lot about how ironic it is that Christians that hate Islam want to be taken seriously for their faith, but I don’t think the average person understands how deep this irony goes.

For those not well read in both faiths, Islam is a nearly 99% identical copy of Christianity. Moses is Musa, Abraham is Ibrahim. Gabriel is Jibreel, Adam and Eve is Adam and Hawa. Joseph is Yousef, Job is Ayub. Ishmael is Ismael, Isaac is Ishaaq.

Same prophets, almost the exact same stories and canon. Muhammad was an illiterate shady businessman who saw Christianity for what it was, a way to control women and shut down critical thought. He aspired to be a pedophile warlord and borrowed methods from the exotic west to fulfill his goals.

His first wife was older than him. His last was a 6 year old. As he gained power through conquest after conquest, and had his “miraculous visions” of verses being revealed to him, no one could tell that nearly every line he spoke was a stuttering copy of a faith already popular in a far away land. His fellow traveling merchants could, and he was a laughingstock to them. His first scribe could and was banished for noticing his obvious plagiarism…He eventually had to switch gears and market Islam as a “final chapter” of Christianity.

So anyway, that’s why I find interfaith arguments darkly hilarious.

[forthegothicheroine]

I like how all the major big-time warlords in the Mad Max series have something they want to embody, and in some way they all fail.

Lord Humongous wants to be a monster, the scariest damn thing in the wasteland, whose mere name strikes terror into anyone who hears it. He isn't- every movie that follows brings a bigger, scarier bad guy- but that's what he wants to be.

Aunty Entity wants to be a captain of industry. She wants to give her people bread in the form of Bartertown and circuses in the form of the Thunderdome, and be the fearsome but fair re-builder of civilization. She isn't- she breaks her own rules to betray anyone who challenges her authority, and she hires outside agents to disrupt her rivals- but that's who she wants to be.

Dementus wants to be a king. He wants to be loved and feared in equal measure, a generous protector of orphans and a better leader to his men than any of the "big shots" who would take them for granted. He isn't- he's the one who orphaned that child, and he'll sell out his own people the moment it becomes the most convenient option- but that's who he wants to be.

Immortan Joe wants to be a god. He wants to be worshipped in a way that goes beyond either love or fear, to be the singular figure who commands not only his men but the existence of the wasteland itself, and he wants his very name to be an ideology. He isn't a god- he dies like a man, and those same war boys who worshiped him swear allegiance to his killer- but that's who he wants to be.

[revelboo]

PLEASEE I NEED MORE IDW MEGATRON

Guessing you mean exhausted leader of a bunch of backstabbing, barely competent, chaos children Megatron not exhausted co-captain of the Lost Light Megatron?

Skin and Bones Pt 5

IDW Megatron x Reader

• Scrolling through reports, he’s aware of you wandering around on his desk. Peering down at the Cybertronian glyphs on his keyboard. Almost absently, he nudges you away when you get too close to the edge of the desk then goes back to his report. Ignoring the bemused look you shoot him. Then you’re laying your little hands on the back of his hand to lean across and look at his datapad. Venting sharply, he freezes at that unexpectedly soft touch. “What are you doing, little one?”

• You glance up at the warlord, trying to decide if that slight frown means he’s annoyed or just exasperated and trying ignore the fact that when he calls you little it doesn’t sound condescending. It’s almost cute and better than some of the nicknames a few of the Decepticons have saddled you with. Like squishy or meat bag. “How hard is your language to learn?” You ask because you’re honestly curious and it sounds better than that you’re just bored out of your mind and want something to do.

• Shifting his hand, he rumbles in surprise as you go sprawling across the back of his hand on your belly. Before you can scramble away, he’s reaching over with the other hand, curling his servos around your little body to move you onto the desk between him and the datapad. Clearing the screen, he sketches a character and taps it. Makes a rasping noise that ends on a click. Another glyph, this one vocalized as a whirring sound and you stare up at him. There’s no learning this. You can’t even make those sounds.

• He’s already on the seventh glyph before he looks down and sees the look on your little face. It’s almost the same expression some of his younger soldiers had worn the first time they went into battle. Overwhelmed and terrified. Venting softly to stir your hair, he goes back to the first one. Enunciating carefully, he makes the sound. You look up at him and then make a noise. Mangling it far beyond recognition, but you’re trying. Again he makes the correct pronunciation and then waits. Face reddening, you try again. Still very wrong, but closer. “I can’t make those sounds.”

• “Not yet,” he replies, reaching out to gently use the tip of his servo to turn your face back to the datapad. “Can you draw the glyph?” Blowing out a breath, you lean over the datapad, laying a hand on the screen to copy his glyph. Well, that you’re good at. He runs a knuckle along your spine, feeling you lean into that stroke like you enjoy it. “Very good, little one,” he growls in Cybertronian, smiling indulgently as you peer up at him in confusion. Cautiously you offer him a smile that does strange things to his spark. Makes him uncertain how to feel, because he’s not sure he deserves anything soft or gentle after the things he’s done. Had to do. Certainly doesn’t deserve your trust. Shaking himself, he taps the second one and watches you sketch it out.

Previous Next

[hylianane]

I’ve read Time Traveler Zoro AUS far more interesting than anything my feeble little mind could cook up on it’s own, but I’d still love try to play around with the premise and give it my own spin.

I’ve read two in which Zoro loses the crew in a great tragedy, so he goes back in time to save them, and the greatest source of tension in the story is the way he tries to hide all the future knowledge he maintains from the others, while still trying to rewrite history. It’s so good and thrilling. But. Yet. However.

I’m reminded of the scene in Sabaody in which Rayleigh offers to tell the crew about the One Piece, and Luffy furiously rejects him. Says he doesn’t want a boring adventure where he knows the ending. And though I don’t recall Zoro saying anything in that moment, I think he would agree. So in this Time Travel AU, when Zoro goes back in time, he does so with the idea that this second try isn’t for him. He wants to help, but if he gets on that boat, he won’t be able to keep himself from giving Luffy all the answers in hopes of saving his life, and that would ruin his Captain’s dream.

So let’s imagine Luffy. At seventeen years old, he sets out on a journey through the Grandline to become the King of the Pirates. He has his navigator, his sniper, his cook, his doctor- all his friends by his side. And things are challenging sometimes, but always fun. And he gets lucky.

He gets lucky a lot.

Sanjj tells him it’s a guardian angel, but Luffy’s not so sure. There’s something at the back of his mind, an itch behind his ear. He starts to notice signs of a certain presence everywhere he goes, a mysterious someone who seems to always want to beat him to the punch, but also seems to never finish the job.

Like back in Orange Town, when he met Nami and fought the Buggy guy, the Clown complained about his knife thrower being put out of commission by a bounty hunter right before the fight. Or in Syrup Village, when Captain Kuroo called for reinforcements two of his officers were a no-show, their crewmates reporting that it was as if the Nyaban Brothers had disappeared into the night. When Luffy met Sanji at the Baratie, he’d felt a tension build within him as he listened to all the rumors of the Greatest Swordsman in the World having been seen nearby. But then, the tension is cut abruptly when Don Kreig walks through the door instead, announcing that he’d escaped the Warlord when some suicidal swordsman intercepted his chase.

In Whiskey Peak, Nami tells him about how she saw a cloaked figure take down 100 hundred bounty hunters without making a sound, as if trying to not disturb the Strawhat’s sleep. Luffy thinks he might’ve seen such a figure from afar when taking a leak, but he can’t be sure. In Alabasta, Ace keeps throwing looks over his shoulder as if searching for someone, but always telling Luffy there’s nothing to worry about. Vivi is shocked to discover someone took down Baroque Work’s Number 1 in a duel a night before their arrival at Alubarna. When Robin joins them at the end of it, she seems shocked to find the crew only has five members, instead of six. But she doesn’t seem keen on elaborating why just yet.

The only place that they haven’t been followed to by this Mystery Guy (as Luffy has taken to calling him) is Skypeia. Almost like he couldn’t figure out how to get up there.

And still, the whole time Luffy’s there he can’t stop thinking about him. Looking left and right as if between the clouds and the trees he’ll catch a glimpse of Mystery Guy’s face. Nami says it’s ludicrous to think that all these instances can be chalked up to same guy. Usopp tells tall tales of how they’re being stalked by a man who fell madly love with the Great Sniper’s good looks, or sometimes he tells tales of how they’re being followed by the ancient God of Fortune, or sometimes it’s any other grandiose tale he’ll accept before he accepts that it’s just a guy, just a Mystery Guy, who is real and Luffy knows it.

He knows, and he’s a little obsessed with it. And it’s not always great. He loses sleep, wondering who are you and do you know me and do i know you and stop getting in my way and why don’t you do it more and do you want to join my crew and i need you to watch me and i need you on my crew.

(Meanwhile, on his end, Zoro is planning how to stop the tragedy that will befall his family. But in the meantime he doesn’t want to just be dead weight. He doesn’t want to be apart from them. He may not have a place on that boat anymore, but he can’t have his Captain fighting his battles. He can’t let his friends go unprotected. So he’ll protect them, protect him, in silence, from afar, always one day head, always knowing what’s coming next)

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

i see you like my crumbs, will you take another?

now hear me out:

reader looking after the cubs by grooming their fur.

at first they never would allow it, them looking after each other. but after awhile, maybe they need to be cleaned up quickly or perhaps they cant groom each other for some reason, and so they have their choice: reader or spirit.

they already know how proficient spirit is with monkey related things, so its a case of who they trust more.

reader has gave them pats and scratches, and perhaps removed things from their fur once or twice, but has no skills when it comes to grooming a monkey proper, but that certainly wont stop them from trying! it takes a while, with reader going slow, but afterwards, they are.. mostly clean? they really cant blame reader for not knowing how to do so, but she certainly tried her best!

and well, it certainly felt nice, that's for sure.

they don't always get both cleaned by reader, sometimes spirit grooms one of them as well. not often, and only when they absolutely cant get clean with in the timeframe they have. spirit doesn't put in as much care to make sure she isn't pulling hair and such. she isn't being mean, but she just prioritises efficiency over comfort, unlike reader.

as they grow closer and closer with reader, she gets more chances to groom them, getting more skilled at it as time goes on. after a while, they even try and return the favour, from time to time.

now, instead of only when they need it, they try and get a grooming session from reader whenever they're relaxing, loving the sensation of reader caring for them so gently.

but when they turn back...

it's a bit difficult to convince reader to groom them, especially when they kidnapped her.

monkey duo: ah yes, hello, i know we took you to the mountain and are never letting you go, but can you please clean our fur? even though us being in our true forms means we are bigger now, and thus take much more time?

reader, freshly kidnapped and pissed off: no, you aren't kids, clean yourselves

monkey duo: :(

a few hours later:

reader grooming a random cub that asked politely:

monkey duo: :(

monkey duo: >:(

i will be back with more crumbs at a later date, i hope you enjoy this one.

Hahaha!!! Omg this would totally happen!

Now don't get me wrong the monkey duo wouldn't be mad at the cub. They would never be mad at a cub. However they are mad that they aren't also getting grooming.

Macaque would be slightly more understanding because he is self aware that they did kidnap/courtnap you. Though he still doesn’t like that you won’t give him such attention yet. He is sure that eventually you’ll give in though.

“Darling,” Wukong called out as he opened the door to your room/ cage.

Immediately you backed up in your bed, a scowl easily spread across your face even through the fear that you felt. In his hands the Warlord held a tray of fruits, all freshly cut and carefully placed to look extra appealing. You barely looked at the offering that he tried to give you, instead watching the monkey demon.

Sun Wukong was tall, almost standing at six feet tall with deep golden eyes. His beautiful golden fur looked the same shade as when he was in the form of a cub. You almost felt betrayed when you had first seen his true form. He had been wearing his golden armor and extravagant clothing before but now? Now as he walked into the room he was wearing nothing but a pair of pants, showing off his furry chest and back muscles.

All you did was glare at the monkey demon as he set the tray onto a table in the room. You didn’t say a word as he looked over at you. You expected him to leave but then noticed Macaque also walk into the room, dressed the same as his mate. His normally dark fur gone in favor of his beautiful white coat that he only shows to you and Wukong.

“What?” You ask almost silently as you waited for their reason for staying.

“It’s been a week since you’ve arrived on the island,” Wukong started, a wide grin spread across his face as if he just told you something incredible.

You raise an eyebrow with confusion, “So-?”

Both monkey demons approached the bed and leaned against it, giving you a full view of their chests. You pushed down the blush that threatened to cover your face at the sight of them.

“We were hoping- that you’d be willing to give us a grooming,” Macaque was the one to speak.

Immediately you’re tiny bubble burst and you gave them a glare, “No.”

“Oh come on why not!?” Wukong yelled looking at you with a puppy dog look across his face, as he flopped himself on the ground.

At the action you backed up a frown spread across your face. You glanced at Macaque who unlike Wukong merely looked dejected but seemed to have accepted that you wouldn’t groom them. However his mate, was not the same case.

“Darling, love, precious gem, our precious Queen, please,” Wukong begged jumping onto the bed and laying his head on your lap before you could move.

You of course merely frowned and pushed him off of you a deep frown covering your face. Looking away you scowled.

>>><<<

A few hours later when you are sitting alone in the room after having sent the duo away, both being thoroughly disappointed. Slowly you had eaten the food they provided, you had to admit that it tasted delicious. Not that you would tell either of them that, especially right now.

*Chirp*

It was small almost silent, a tiny chirp caught your attention. Turning to look you saw none other than a small monkey cub. It was a little girl with curly dark brown fur and the brightest blue eyes. She was looking almost everywhere but at you and playing with the sleeves of her pretty pink Hanfu.

“Hello there,” You couldn’t help but coo at the cute cub.

Almost immediately she perked up her eyes wide as she looked up at you with a warm smile. Cautiously she walked up to you and sat down a little bit away before scooting a little closer and settling down. Curious you tilted your head before crouching down to her level.

“Is there something you need?” You asked calmly.

“C-Can you help me? I can’t get the knots,” She muttered pointing around her body to her back and you felt your heart squeeze. How could you say no to such a cute face?

You barely let out a sigh before sitting down on the floor in front of her. Immediately the young cub turns around and reveals her back to you pulling her clothing so you could reach where she couldn’t. With expert care and skill that you attained from grooming the two warlords before you knew who they were you carefully combed through her fur.

Gently untangling every knot and strand you smiled when she began to purr. It was calm and rather domestic. You didn’t even notice when someone leaned against the doorframe.

Macaque’s gaze watched you calmly, he crossed his arms across himself and found himself bitterly smiling. He wanted that attention, the attention that you were freely giving to such a small monkey cub. She was a runt so small and frail, someone who you were caring for without a second thought. You will make such a wonderful mother, the thought crossed his mind and he quickly pushed it away. At least he tried. The thought of you carrying his cubs was overwhelming, you would make such cute cubs.

He was only broken out of his thoughts when his husband walked by, “No fair!”

You jumped before whipping your head around to look at the warlords, Wukong in particular had an almost offended look on his face. He didn’t think it was fair, he wanted your attention too. He wanted your fingers combing and grooming through his fur, he was your husband! You were married as far as he or Macaque were concerned, he did everything needed with the courtship and courtnapping. Aside from consummation but you just weren’t ready for that.

“Why won’t you groom my fur too,” He practically whined stomping his feet.

The cub let out a squeak before scurrying away to get away from the warlord, only to get caught by Macaque’s tail. You felt a shot of fear through you for a split second before he gently cradled the cub in his arms. The look on his face was both disappointment and wonder as he handed the cub back to you. Something that you accepted without a second thought, which was the reason unknown to you that Wukong went silent.

You were so cute holding the cub, how did he miss that!? How would you look holding their cub? Both his and Macaque’s? The thought filled his head as he sat down on the ground, his tail thumping on the ground as he tried to calm himself down. You focused back on grooming the cub, weather because you simply wanted to or to avoid the warlords was unclear at this point.

I loved this ask! SO CUTE!! Honestly they will be less annoyed with you grooming cubs and more wanting you to have THEIR cubs. So Reader’s gotta be careful with that, luckily for her the monkey warlords are willing to wait. Even if they don’t want to. Sorry again for the waits on these but I am working on them!!

[one-piece-aus]

What would marriage life would be like with the seven warlords?

This is an old anon request, I do apologize for not getting to it sooner but here we go

What Marriage Life Would Be Like With the Seven Warlords (Headcanons)

It's pretty chill being married to Mihawk

Y'all just vibe in a mansion on an isolated island

I imagine Mihawk is a person of quality time and acts of service so the two of you would often spend time together

Whether it's reading in your library or cooking dinner for each other, every moment you do together and action you do for him is cherished in Mihawk's heart, even if he doesn't mention it

He makes sure you're healthy and well (eating properly, making sure you get your sleep)

This man will be able to instantly tell if your state is the slightest bit off and will not hesitate to voice his concern

He is not opposed to having children, the idea might amuse him

In fact, after Zoro and Perona had made their appearance, Mihawk grew fond of the idea taking care of his own child, even if they would be irritating at times

Btw, Zoro and Perona think you two act like an old married couple ❤

Only way this would be possible is if you are someone like Luffy

She might not understand exactly what marriage life means but she will do her best to make you happy

She is going to cook for you and feed you

She will bathe you and make sure you have the best clothes to wear

And she will order the best doctors to bring you back to your best health if you get sick

She is taking ✨amazing✨ care of you

The two of you are just living the life of luxury regardless of where you choose to live because you two are together and happy

You will not have kids (for a number of reasons that I will not get into because this is supposed to be a fun post)

Alright, I had no idea what to do for Moria so I asked @ask-the-night-crowl for these headcanons, thank you again Snugs

In a marriage, Moria would totally rely on his partner to fulfill all the duties he has/ should be responsible for. Granted, the other mysterious four already take over most of those, but someone has to keep them all in check.

His spouse better not be aversed by his crew, because for as much as he says he doesn't care about these idiots, he would also face death to protect them.

Unless him and his s/o have known eachother for a pretty long time, he'll try to keep them at an arm's length. Not necessarily because they don't have good enough of a connection, but the idea of loss is always on his mind.

He doesn't mind affection. In fact, he'll back-handedly seek it out by annoying his s/o until they give him attention if he so desires. He's pretty much like an oversized cat.

On the other hand, you'll also have to be prepared not to see him for days on end, because of his sleeping habits (Again, like a cat).

But in that time, cuddling with him is totally fine, because once that man is out, he sleeps like a rock.

His frequent nightmares might lead to the conclusion that comforting him would be the answer. But he hates the idea of being treated as weak as that and would much rather appreaciate the mere presence of his s/o when he wakes up next to them.

In contrast, he'll offer the same to his s/o when they feel down and would have an immediate (even petty) grudge against anyone harming them.

Staying in with him at a fireplace, drinking fancy wines and making fun of the other warlords would be his favorite way to spend time when he's awake for once.

If the spouse is good at cooking, you can bet they'll become his personal chef - after all, love goes through the stomach amirite.

If you're marrying Doffy, his family comes as a package deal, you can't have him without it, that being said, he expects you to get along with them (you can tolerate them instead but just don't let him notice)

Of course, he will expect you to take care of Baby 5, Buffalo, and Dellinger as if they were your children, he is open to making blood offsprings, but never put them before him

Doffy is your number 1 priority, whatever he says goes

But just because he's demanding doesn't mean he won't show you affection, in fact, most of his demands is just him wanting to give or receive affection

You are showed in gifts and luxury, he is the king of Dressrosa afterall, your word has every weight as his own since your are his queen

He is proud to show off his spouse, you are his most prized possession after all

However, you are more than just a trophy, after the loss of his dear mother and brother, he holds you close and tells you how dear you are to him every night

You are often woken up in the middle of the night due to his rustling from nightmares, just hold him to calm him down

Crocodile keeps you in the dark about his work, for all you know, he is a casino owner in Alabasta that keeps the people safe from pirates since he's a warlord

He takes you out for a stroll around in the evening, outside to admire the stars, or in the casino where your every need is met

He doesn't show affection in public but his gestures do show you belong to him and no one else

He keeps you company in bed at night until you fall asleep but when you wake up, he is not there, he's working as always

When see him next, he'll have a gift for you, an apology for not being able to always be around as he is a very busy man, but he'll make it up to you

I imagine it would be comfortable, like little cottage in nature kind of comfy

You both would wake up in the morning with a nice cup of tea

Your place would be clean and organized

You'd receive lots of comforting hugs and cuddles

Life would be peaceful

Until strawhat crew comes knocking on your door

Don't quite have any ideas for Kuma so... This is end, I hope you enjoy anon, and thank you for requesting

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Some opinions down below on why I think these specific characters would be funny to see in this scenario;

-Nightbeat is a detective. Gotham is full of crime. See where I'm getting at? Also, it would be funny if he just casually figured out the batfams secret identities, went "neat" and then just moved on to the next mystery.

-Rodimus would 100% try to become a vigilante. Creates a heroic looking holoform (that looks way to flashy for anything in Gotham) and uses his alt mode as his own batmobile. Batman would find out about his true identity by the end of the week.

-I want to see Megatron accidentally create a criminal empire. Like, he tries so hard to appear like a normal human while trying to find a way home, maybe even opens a cafe or some shit as cover, but he keeps on attracting the attention of criminals. Suddenly he's got hundreds of goons devoted to him, following his every order. Call that warlord rizz.

-Whirl for the same reason as Megatron except he does it on purpose. He wanna do crime! Be a rogue (but one of those cool ones like Poison Ivy and Catwoman)! And punch the Joker. Fuck, he really hates the Joker.

-It would just be funny to see Prowl in this hellhole of a city. Gotham's crime rate is 100%, the cops are corrupt, the law is upheld by vigilantes. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he wouldn't have a fucking seizure. Would kill the Joker for stress relief.

-Look, Starscream would hate the city but he would make it work. He'd make his own place, forge connections, create his own criminal empire. And totally try and seduce Bruce Wayne. You know, for the money and power.

-Grimlock gets found by Robin. Robin sees giant, fire breathing, robot t-rex and goes "hmm, yes, you're mine now" and keeps him a secret from the rest of the batfam.

-Brainstorm would fucking thrive in Gotham. He's a mad scientist, he would have so much fun taking apart the weapons and equipment of Gotham's rogues and vigilantes. Not to mention creating his own. He'd steal the batmobile only to return it two days later, upgraded and decked out with the most insane tech.

-Soundwave has an adoption problem. Batman has an adoption probem. You see my vision? Also, I want him to adopt Robin. And Robin just accepts it because now he gets to hang out with Ravage, Buzzsaw, Laserbeak and Ratbat. Alternatively, just Ravage in Gotham because that would be funny too.

-Rewind thinks Gotham is fucking WILD and he's planning on getting it all on tape so he can show his friends later. He stalks the batfam on their patrols, sneaks into the secret bases of rogues, just to get those good action shots.

-Similar to Prowl, Ultra Magnus would be so fucking vexed by Gotham but while Prowl goes "I FUCKING HATE THIS CITY AND EVERYONE IN IT!", Ultra Magnus has a major case of "I can fix them".

[myownvomit]

Tfa and tfp crossover but it’s just tfp megs getting cucked.

Like imagine tfa megs meeting tfp optimus ANS seeing him for the first time and thinking ‘damn I’m gonna put babies in him’ and as he begins getting to know them he realizes that optimus is not like his optimus who is a nobody.

Optimus is a large mech the same size as him and he has a large chassis and wide hips perfect for birthing sparklings so immediately he begins to try and court him. Unfortunately for optimus tfa Megatron is just like Megatronus charismatic, charming, and can sweet talk him for hours but optimus dosent give in ‘yet’ he’s a strong willed mech so of course he won’t fall for some sweet words and a couple of touches.

But he does one day (tfa) Megatron manages to catch him alone, slowly approaching him he begins to declare his love for him and goes on a rant on how compatible they are, which begins to cause optimus to become warm.

It isn’t until Megatron mentions on how many sparklings he can shove up optimus forge that makes optimus break and finally give up on his moral code and giving in to his desires.

“You’ve been lonely far to long..let me take care of you” Megatron whispered in a deep husky voice.

As they approached eachother Megatron grabbed optimus by the hips and pulled him close, interlocking their lips together. Megatron pressed his knee on optimus panels and gently rubbed which caused him to let out a weak whimper as his already hot and leaky panels began to ache more.

“Please..” as optimus muttered a simple beg, Megatrons engine revved at his voice and was taking a painful sense of self restraint to not hop on the mech rip off his panels and thrust into him right then and there.

Eventually they made it to the warlords hideout and took him to his throne room where he sat on his throne and watched as eagerly as the prime began to take off his panels and let out needy whimpers as he did the same.

When tfp Megatron found out about this he wnet on a rage nearby killing everyone in his sight until he stopped and went on a depressive episode for a few months

[afghanbarbie]

i was born in taliban-controlled afghanistan and spent the majority of my childhood under the subsequent american occupation. my village was controlled by terrorists and warlords and patrolled by american soldiers who pretended they were 'peacekeepers' but, for the most part, were only interested in abusing local afghans and raping women and girls. i've both witnessed and experienced the sexual violence of my country's islamic fundamentalist factions as well as american occupying forces.

what i've seen both israel and hamas do to women in palestine and the occupied territories is eerily similar. i know people love to shout resistance by any means necessary! and similar slogans, but rape is not about 'resistance', it's about men exerting power and control over women. making excuses for it just goes to show how ready and willing 'leftists' are to throw women to the wolves as soon as they see an opportunity.

and if you think the men of hamas go home after raping their 'conquests of war' to treat palestinian women like saints, you haven't been paying attention to male violence throughout human history at all. the men who use war as an excuse to rape enemy women are going home to rape, beat and abuse their wives and daughters just the same.

[fanaticsnail]

I always am in awe and in love with your writing and wanted your thoughts on this. What do you think of the aloof Mihawk with an apprentice that he isn’t that close too. He still is protective, but doesn’t think much until he notices that the apprentice is getting weaker and assumes they are slacking. He tears into them about being lazy and goes to leave only to hear them collapse with the Hanahaki disease. 🫣

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling

Hanahaki: a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

Masterlist here. Part 2 here.

Word Count: 1,466

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, Anon. I hope I fulfilled your request well. I am very new to the concept, so I have drawn this up as a drabble rather than a fully-fledged fic.

Song Accompaniment: Luminary

“Pick up the pace, Fledgling,” Mihawk directed you, his drawl laced in boredom and indifference, “try to at least be better than you were yesterday. You’re growing slack or, dare I say, lazy.”

It had been this way for the past three years. You had initially sought out the mighty Dracule Mihawk, warlord and world’s greatest swordsman, to train you to become an expert in skilled swordcraft. Initially, he refused your request; shutting the door in your face as soon as you uttered a simple: “Lord Mihawk, I have come to humbly request-.”

His eyes bore an intensity, an aloofness and disinterest about them. The honey-colour irises within the darker rings indicated he was exactly the strength you needed to train under to become an expert in your field. As soon as your gaze was halted by the large wooden door, the large brass handle swinging to nearly hit you; you became resolved in not moving from your place atop his staircase until he was willing to take you in.

He made you wait seven days. Your body was overcome with exhaustion, dehydration and malnourishment when he finally stepped aside to welcome you within his darkened and gloomy halls to await further instruction.

Your training began by vigorous routine: waking, eating, training, sleeping – all with the broody swordsman lording over you; criticising every aspect of your routine. Your apprenticeship was joined alongside the demon and bounty hunter: Roronoa Zoro. He was an amazing peer; his strength and agility was akin to your own, alongside his mantra to become stronger than the person he was yesterday. Mihawk paid you and Zoro the same amount of attention, his ward: Perona, also offering you guidance and comradery with her unwavering support.

“You slept in, Fledgling,” the warlord would utter, flicking the back of his newspaper to straighten the pages. He did not look up to acknowledge your presence in the slightest, opting to raise a glass of red wine to his lips instead.

“No protein with your breakfast? You’ll never achieve your goals by living on simply bread – I don’t care if Perona informs you otherwise,” he would utter, brushing past you to reach high up on the kitchen shelf and thrusting the jar into your hands, “at least balance it out with almonds or pumpkin seeds, Fledgling.”

“Sloppy,” he would comment, gesturing to a particular maneuver you were working with against your peer, Roronoa Zoro, “pick your feet up, Fledgling. Rabbit, aim for their calves to make them move.”

Each jab, taunt and criticism had your resolve to train harder and stronger more cemented within your chest: a chest that became weighed down with a feeling of suffocating tightness. The brush of a correcting hand, the whisper of his shoulder on his way past you, the feeling of his guidance on your lower back throughout the halls had your heart bound within vines.

Fighting the feeling with furrowed brows and clenched jaws, you pinned it as anxiety under the hard traineeship you sought with this undertaking with the swordsman. You thought you had trained yourself too hard: coughing uncontrollably, clutching your chest to relieve you of the tight feeling that followed with a spatter of blood falling from your parted lips into your palm. A trickle of saliva connected your lips to the pool within the creases of your hand: a small petal white and pure going unnoticed within your outstretched palm.

You strengthened your resolve, opting to train harder to break yourself from the weakness you were experiencing. You chose not to inform neither Perona, Zoro nor your boss Dracule Mihawk of the overexertion you were sure you were suffering.

Battling with Zoro became harder and more difficult with the amount of exhaustion you found yourself overcome with. The feeling never ceased, and appeared to be becoming worse the more your eyes met with the disapproving gaze of your mentor. Mihawk would shake his head and look away from your stance in disappointment, opting to praise Zoro for his ability to take down someone akin to you.

It was not until you felt the feeling overcome your chest completely that you collapsed under the pressure of your heart. The feeling of overexertion was too much. The passion was too much. The love?

Love.

You were in love.

You were in love with Dracule Mihawk.

A man you knew you could never have.

His gentle touches: firm enough to guide you, soft enough for it to be a suggestion rather than an order. The way his eyes would linger, unblinking and harsh. There was no softness, only correction and disinterest. He was not interested in you, not in the slightest - that was a fact you were certain of. A man of his stature had no awareness, desire, or need for something as simple as romance or love.

Collapsing within the vineyard, drawing your hand up to your mouth and coughing under the uncomfortable weight within your heart; your eyes rose to the feathered hat atop the warlord in front of you, wide and frantic.

“Lazy again, Fledgling?” he uttered, turning to face you along the clay row of the cascading vines, “and here I thought-.”

His words were cut short, his eyes widening at your form and brows immediately rising. Hunching your back over, you hung your head as a fit of uncontrollable coughs overcame your body in a fit of wheezed breaths. The vocal chords within your throat stung within the chasms of your oesophagus, a trail of white petals once again falling to your palm under your coughs. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the pain you were experiencing, looking in horror towards your mentor.

“What is-,” he began, turning in his sprint to join you at your side, “-what is wrong with you?”

Drawing his right arm to collect your shoulders, he embraced you against his chest as you continued to struggle to gulp down breaths of air to fill your lungs. Utilizing his left hand, he withdrew your hand from your lips and stared his amber eyes down to your palm.

“Hanahaki,” he whispered in a low growl. His teeth clenched tight against each other at the thought of the disease overtaking your form. His honey-coloured gaze scanned over your body, staring at the risen veins like vines rising in a trail from your heart to your clavicle as his breath hitched in a light hiss.

Releasing your hand from his left, he laced his left arm beneath your body and thrust himself upwards to cradle you against himself. His embrace was strong, his support of your respiratory system within his arms relieved some of the tension falling from your heart in waves of caged interwoven vines.

Blurred sentences falling from his lips, your ears nor eyes are able to focus on a single word uttered.

“-How long-.”

“-When did-.”

"-Fledgling-."

“-You didn’t say-.”

“Let’s-... -a doctor.”

You felt your body be placed onto a firm, wooden surface. Your chest felt weighed down by the amount of earthy and binding roots you felt entrapped by. Your jaw ached with how hard you had clasped your teeth shut to halt the release of more petals. Pure, white and teasing was the nature of the flowers falling from between your parted mouth. The ache never ceased within your chest the longer your mentor remained with you.

Your dizzying mind only regained focus at the next utterances falling from the lips of your mentor.

“I will send for the green-haired rabbit. Perhaps I can persuade him of the charm you hold and convince him to fall for you,” he took a long breath inwards and uttered in a tone just above a whisper, “if you can convince someone as hardened as I am wordlessly to harbor affection for you, the brat should have no such trouble.”

He exited the room, the wooden door to the kitchen swinging behind him in a slow, creaked ‘click’ as it met its handle against the brass latch. Immediately, you felt your heart began to release the tension folded around the organ. Although your mouth was dry, the flavour of metallic blood lingering in a cocktail against the floral texture of something akin to jasmine flowers, your body was relieved of the tension for the first time in three years.

No longer hardened by what you assumed to be mild anxiety, you knew you would be able to train harder still to achieve both yours and Dracule Mihawk’s impossibly high standards of yourself. Discovering what harbouring the affections of a warlord of the seas truly meant while training was something that filled your once constricted heart with a soaring freedom you yearned for.

You would have much to discuss upon his return, especially with a green-haired apprentice in tow.

[aquitainequeen]

I was thinking about how so many of those with power and authority in the Wasteland are referred to not only by their title, but with an honorific 'the'. So we have The Immortan Joe, The Red/Great/Dark/etc Dementus, and further down there's The People Eater, The Bullet Farmer, The Organic Mechanic, The Octoboss, The History Man. Even some of Joe's trusted subordinates carry this honorific, as the first time we're introduced to Jack he's the Praetorian Jack.

Going back to Fury Road, the same goes for most of the women whom Joe kept locked up in his harem, with a little variation. The Splendid Angharad, Toast the Knowing, The Dag, Cheedo the Fragile.

All of which made me think about Furiosa, who's tried for years upon years to escape the world of the Wasteland and service to the warlords; finally both surrendering to and drawing upon what power and authority she's amassed during that service, in order to have a chance at getting her revenge. How she mutters 'Praetorian Furiosa'. And then when she's ignored, she screams

'I am the Praetorian Furiosa!!!'

[revelboo]

Hello! I usually don't post much here in these ask Boxes, but seeing your writing style made me have thoughts about ..... I don't know if you saw TFE(earthspark) but if so, can you write something about megatron?? 😘👍😔💅 (I'm literally addicted to everything you post)

Haha I do adore Rory McCann’s lovely, growly voice.

Give Up/Give In

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• That mad laughter rings in his processor as he transforms and reaches, only to find Skywarp already gone. Weapon fire slamming into his back right before Starscream slams into him, driving him down to the ground. He’s dimly aware of brakes squealing, something colliding with his ped. Humans screaming and running from the fire fight, but there’s no time to lure the Seekers out of the middle of town. They’re darting away before he can bring his canon to bear. The three clever enough to know that he’s stronger, but they’re faster. All they have to do is keep moving. Servos tightening into a fist, he bares his denta at Skywarp. “Come on then!” He roars in challenge.

• They came from out of nowhere, Cybertronians fighting. Sure you’d seen this sort of thing on TV, but it was always a distant horror. Something that didn’t happen in your town. Slamming on the brakes, you hear tires squealing before another driver slams into your sedan, caving in the driver’s side door as pain sears through you and then your head is snapped back when the airbag goes off. From far too close, those massive aliens are brawling, and you watch the gray one step on an abandoned car flattening it and not even noticing. Clawing at your seatbelt, you see the guy who hit you stagger out of his truck. “Help! I’m stuck!” You scream at him and he hesitates. For one brief moment you think he’s going to actually come over, then something explodes and he’s running away. Leaving you.

• There’s guilt there in the back of his processor as he fights his former allies. His followers who believed in him. Needed him to be their rallying cry for change. For a better life. Understands their hatred and how they see his actions as betrayal. But he can’t let the weight of his failures cripple him now. A blow to the back of his head. A kick to his shoulder. Weapon’s fire to the face. Staying out of reach, because they know as well as he does if he gets his servos on them it’s over. And just like the last two times in as many days, the attack stops. The trio warping away without any clever words or sneering. Looking for weaknesses. Testing him. Baring his denta with a snarl, he steps back and something crunches under his ped, a ragged noise of pain freezing him.

• The ruin of your car tips up slightly as that massive foot steps on the hood. It’ll step back any minute, crushing you and never even noticing. Then that foot moves and he’s crouching down. Megatron. How many times have you seen this one on TV? The reformed warlord. Huge fingers grip the roof of your car and just pull it away so easily. Glowing red eyes staring down at you as he frowns. “Easy, little one,” he says and that low, growling voice rolls over you. When he wrenches the door from the car frame, you become aware of the pain and the wetness at the same time, a ragged scream tearing from your throat.

• There’d been no time to worry over the humans and, if he’s being honest, he hadn’t spared them any thought at all. While he protects Dorothy and her family, the rest have never actually mattered to him. Just more collateral damage of the war. The little human’s screams taper off to a panicked wheezing as he breaks the seatbelt and lifts them free. The red blood making him remember Dorothy hurt, bleeding out and still trying to fight. Defiant. You’re not her. Trembling in his servos, eyes wide and terrified as you look up at him. “Please,” you whisper and he’s frozen. Because you need him and he isn’t sure what to do.

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