This Poor Baby - Tumblr Posts
Oh boy, this is the first time i really pictured Walker as Percy telling Nico about Bianca this kid watching this other kid die, the absolute terror of searching for her bodie, and then breaking the news for her little brother. oh my. It'll be devastating.
need a scene in season three of sally comforting percy when he returns home from the quest. he sobs into her shoulder and recounts the moment bianca died. the time they spent searching for her body. the grief that weighed on him when they had to continue the quest without her. the guilt he felt when he broke the news to nico. and how he feels he must bear the weight of the prophecy to protect nico. because he's just a kid.
Danny Phantom/Fenton who has the Y scar from an autopsy/vivisection and in Ghost form sometimes after a bad fight that scars just… opens up and his organs fall out and he just gets frustrated and is like “again??? Seriously??” And casually shoved the stuff back in and holds him self closed for a few seconds while the scar stickers back together. Ghost Crew freaks out the first few times they see it happen (including Danny) and when Vlad sees it, he sees red and immediately tries to hunt down the people who caused it (he has a switch of moral, angst idea it was Danny’s parents teamed with GIW) maybe they try to stop him because “killing people bad” or maybe they let him wreak havoc depends on your cup of tea. Could be a dp x dc crossover where one of batfam/JL sees it happen and freaks and the Ghost Crew is like “meh” and batfam/JL is very confused and concerned and trying to figure out WHY THIS KID IS SO CLAM ABOUT BEIJG GUTTED WTFF and Danny is just casually stuffing his organs back inside while talking about something (probably nerding out because OMG I JUST MET [batfam/JL] OMG)
Ambiguous Ceasefire AU
Everyone’s favorite trope- Megatron gets high in the medbay and flirts with Optimus ✨
(I cannot proof read this or I will die)
————————————-
“It’s processor damage, Ratchet-“
“No, it’s processor lag. Stop fretting, Prime. He shouldn’t of been drinking that slag with an injury like that.”
“It’s a common practice, stumpy. Decepticons do not have ze luxury of pain patches jou hoity-toity Autobots do.”
“This is peace time, Strika. He could have waited for me to get to him after he comm’ed for me! Overcharge interferes with medication.”
“Please don’t raise your voice, Ratchet. He’s likely very sensitive.”
Megatron made a pathetic noise of agreement. Though it was too great a chore to open his optics and see for himself who was yelling back and forth at one another over his helpless, prone form, he could at least summon the strength to wave his servo in a silent plea to be spared.
These bots sounded far too over involved, and Megatron just wanted to sleep…
He shifted to find his bearings and a tremor ran through him as a searing sensation nestled deep in his abdominal plate screamed at him in protest. He conceded with a hiss, falling back against the padded slab beneath him.
“Hey! Stop moving!”
Megatron flinched at the sudden shouting.
“Let him.” Said the thick accent.
“He has to learn his lesson.”
“But it’s not his fault- you said he was trying to numb the pain.”
‘Not his fault’.
If Megatron’s glossa weren’t impossibly heavy and he had a slice of a processor left to think with, he knew he’d be quite inclined to chat with the more forgiving of the three voices above him to help him make sense of things.
He liked having a sensible mech around.
“He’s an idiot, but he was also desperate, you two.”
Megatron took it back.
Sleep was clearly not an option anymore, nor was a moment’s peace of the burning hole in his tank keeping him on high alert.
Through sheer force of will -and the need to assert himself, especially as an incapacitated warlord- Megatron cracked an optic open to address the spinning room at large.
In seconds, the colliding world of colors and far too bright lights came into a hazy focus, morphing into a sight more arresting than his first view of the Iacon tower in 4 millennia.
Before him stood a stunningly vivid mech, painted in blues and reds, silvers and yellows, and peering down at him with such captivation.
Shielding him from the blinding light in his optics with his curiously cocked helm.
Or perhaps, Megatron thought, that was concern etched into his smooth features- rather unsure of how to behold the colossal mech laid before him.
Megatron had built an empire with… ‘physical persuasion’ and his dashing charisma, and this new recruit was clearly feeling out of his depths at the sight of his glorious leader. Even in the pathetic state he was in -which Megatron could tell by his aching joints.
He was simply too magnificent a mech.
“Megatron?” The young recruit spoke his name, and in an instant of clarity, as Energon rushed to Megatron’s helm -and with it, the euphoric tendrils of some unnamed emotion- Megatron realized in wonder and awe that this was no recruit he’d ever seen before- because the blue mech wasn’t one.
“….M-Megatron?”
He was a guardian sent by Primus. That was a halo above his angled helm.
“A holy architect of the AllSpark.” The helicopter murmured in a hushed voice. Lying there in worship.
“You are a messenger of Primus?”
Wide optics stared back at him.
“No- Megatron, you’re not dead.” That little billed helm shook.
“This is Cybertron.”
“I don’t think he thinks he’s dead and gone to the well of AllSparks.” Ratchet mumbled somewhere off to his side. Dialing in another boost of sensor blockers to rush Megatron’s sensor net and effectively muddle his already vacant processor further.
With the new surge of pleasure came another ping of inspiration, as Megatron’s sharp denta gleamed and curled back into the first genuine smile he’d fostered in ages.
The little angel looked at him, terrified.
“You are a messenger, here to give me strength to stand and weather these injuries to fight another day. I can feel myself returning to my full glory from just your presence here.”
“That would be the cortical patch.” Ratchet spoke again.
“You’re high. Feels good, don’t it?”
The angel began to shake his helm more frantically at Megatron’s blatant leering.
“I’m not a… a… u-um. I’m…”
“When I raise my sword again, fair Virgo,” Megatron’s rumbling vocalizer broke with the roughness of recharge attempting to take over him.
“Know that it is you I pray to victory for.”
Laughter burst throughout the little makeshift medbay as Strika heaved her vents empty. Ratchet struggled similarly.
Megatron did not mind the boisterous -frankly bothersome in this moment of rare beauty- laughter, as the angel’s blue faceplates turned kissably red all at once because of it.
Perhaps he was shy and unused to the thunderous sounds of war. The battlefield was always full of raucous mechs, and untouched by the appearance of a creation so pure and precious, did not know how to shelter one from it.
Megatron attempted to reach up and pacify the frightened thing by freckling each cheekplate with a gentle press of his lips to them, but found himself immediately knocked back by the weight of his own unresponsive limbs.
“Megatron!” The little mech reached out and grabbed his paw of a hand, barely able to grip one massive digit, squeezing for some kind of confirmation that Megatron was ok.
He was out, though. Giving in to the impressive cocktail of blockers Ratchet had calculated he’d fall victim to several minutes ago.
The laughter continued until Strika was on her knees on the floor, scrambling to string a sentence together.
“It’s processor lag…” Optimus reminded them.
———————————
Megatron had been subjected to the recording Strika had taken ten times over -or what little he could make of it over her deafening cackling. The wretched glitch.
Why he hadn’t permanently demoted her right then and there with his fusion cannon was entirely Lugnut’s fault, with his endless litany of loyalties Megatron needed to take into account.
He had to admit, while he couldn’t see most of what he and Optimus were up to by the end of Strika’s wheezing attack, he could not deny that that was his voice on the other end of the recording, promising his spark away to his former rival and crooning over him like he was the one bleeding out on a medberth.
Not that Megatron would be worried if he were…
At least their entire Earth teams hadn’t bared witness to the display, as they had when it’d been Blitzwing and Bumblebee accidentally confessing to one another. And that had been fairly explicit in its presentation, too.
So it could have been worse…
Optimus, with his flushed face, wasn’t looking at him like he shared that opinion anymore, though….
————
Actually, Optimus is gay as fuck right now and he wants to do that again please, but he doesn’t think he deserves it, you know how his insecurities are
This poor baby girl 😢😭💔
She's 6!!!! Kids throw a fits!!!
there is no reason good enough to arrest a 6 year old, this is purely racist
I never understood how sad her story was as a child but now that I'm a little older, holy shit
Pauly Likens Jr., a 14-year-old transgender girl, was recently found murdered.
She was stabbed. Her body was found dismembered in a river; a man was recently arrested for her death. Her cause of death was trauma to her head.
She was supposed to be celebrating her 15th birthday this Saturday.
Her family has started a gofundme to cover her funeral.
Here is her obituary.
Trans lives matter.
Trans kids deserve to live.
Keep trans kids safe.
twitter showing me the new levi plush absolutely ruined my morning who did that to him???
