condemnedtorocknroll: manticoreimaginary: Blessed Angharad,…

Saturday, August 22nd, 2015



Blessed Angharad, who fell from the Great War Rig, who gave her life so that others could live.

#okay so the sisters are going to talk about angharad when they get back when the citadel is being rebuilt#and i like the idea of her becoming a figure people think are watching over them#patron of the lost and the suffering#patron of rape victims and self harmers and pacifists and childbearing#invoked by war boys in the late hours when they’re feeling the ache of their tumours#her named called out by those suffering in their labour pains#(whispered by capable late late at night because she was the first person to speak her name like a prayer)

it starts when the wives speak of her and her bravery and maternity slowly becomes something revered and not something that makes you breeding stock. angharad becomes a hero in the eyes of the people, but still a very human one.

then the dag gives birth to a healthy baby girl, who grows up a little anxious at times but brave despite it, and it occurs to her that maybe someone was listening after all. angharad slowly but surely grows more holy, yet still human, someone who’s rumoured to walk the citadel at night, kissing the foreheads of war pups and stroking the foreheads of slowly dying war boys, the company of the lonely and the comforter of the lost. and when they die, who else would be there, waiting to embrace them?

so the stories begin. max, the shadow out in the wasteland and the proof of the kindness of strangers. nux, who showed all the war boys what sacrifice and dying for a cause really means. and angharad the splendid, who fell from the great war rig, who gave her life so others could live.

Reposted from

bonehandledknife: primarybufferpanel: bonehandledknife: primar…

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2015






I’m just amusing myself with the idea that Furiosa introduced the forehead to forehead thing to the War Boys.

Maybe after her first run on the War Rig she’s so pumped up, she’s done it, they shook off the Buzzards, it feels like her whole body is still roaring with the growl of the engines and the bellow of the horn and the sheer adrenaline of it, her crew was fantastic, she chose well, she is so high with it.

So she jumps down from the cab when they’re back at the Citadel and Ace comes up to report and she grabs him and lightly conks their foreheads together in a half remembered greeting. And Ace is like ‘…the fuck?’ but she is grinning and clearly pleased with him so obviously this is the highest sign of approval and honour you can be given by an Imperator.

So the War Rig team starts doing it, and since they are the Most Elite Team among War Boys, soon the others start imitating the gesture. And because they’re War Boys it becomes more of a slightly competitive conking of heads than the tender forehead press the Vuvalini do, but that is the story of how the War Boys started butting heads.

I mean I mean I MEAN

Ace is like… touched by the Imperatorially Blackened Forehead? Being given some of that status grease on his forehead? Being grinned at from up close by an Imperator who is practically vibrating with Yes!Good!YouRock! feels?

Talk about stuff that inspires loyalty

I just. Can you imagine Ace just standing around a little stunned and not quite knowing how to process it? And the rest of the crew is like looking at him too and Furiosa’s already moving through them still vibrating with energy and headdaps and shoulder pats they’re looking at him for guidance and Ace is like almost angry when he goes up to the nearest Boy and slams their foreheads together because, “Well??!

And the War Boys whoop with it, moshes together in a pile of limbs, and Furiosa’s finds herself pretty much crowdsurfing. The sounds of their celebration bangs against the heights of the Citadel like its carving out space for her in the rocks.

I’m just imagining Ace after a halflifetime of Very High Up Joe giving kind of conditional distant approval and always knowing Joe would be more pleased if he died for him… he gets this. He gets the new Imperator, spilling over with energy and approval, touching him like that, completely unfiltered. She has to go onto her toes and pull his head down a little and she does not care, she is 20 feet tall and bulletproof in that moment and in her War Boys’ eyes forever after.

(I was totally daring you)(somebody please write me some smut about the adrenaline filled aftermath of this moment)(with adorable sacked out puppy pile afterward)(and communal protectiveness of the Imperator)(Making sure nobody hogs her blanket)(You don’t get to sleep next to her Morsov you kick like a twitchy pup)(and Furiosa kind of limp and glowing and smiling indulgently as they fuss)

So we’ve either been reading the same kinkmeme prompts or that was your prompt which means I should tell you that I was one of the replies saying ‘yes plz’.

And gosh, I’m not writing smut at work.

But listen though, like the first night, that first time, none of them even ends up in their bunks and it’s not what you think; they’re in the meal halls still.

They’re in the meal halls and they’re handing each other food and passing down plates like catching a body falling from tumbling like hand meeting hand to swing away from wreckage and they’re all endless words, endless revisiting of that run, what would be done better faster more, more modifications to their lances, more maneuvers to practice, is there a better way to get a lance for you, is there a better position for our flamer, is there a better allocation for the bullets…

“I don’t think I saw our Imperator miss once.”

And their tables roared and hands slapped tables and aqua-cola was lifted high and splashed about like chrome.

Little by little, the night grew long and

the mess hall emptied of all but them. Their

stories grew softer, grew quiet, and almost secret like Witnessing that they shouldn’t have the right to have. Three tables became crammed into one, spilled ontop and across the floor of the table where Furiosa held court. No one wanted to leave.

But War Boys run dry eventually too and they drooped from the table to puddle around each other on the ground, like the half-acknowledged memories of their War Pup piles. (They shouldn’t be, they shouldn’t–)

“Look at this lot,” Ace huffed at his Imperator, the both of them remain hunched at the table.

“I’ll need to get them up in the morning.” Furiosa murmured. 

Ace knew that if the Boys were found here by the morning crew, they’d hear no end of it.

It makes something skitter in his stomach to realize that she’s watching over them, still (like swallowing something alive).

“I’ll keep you company then,” Ace says, and raises his cup.

She smacks her’s against it, gently, like heads meeting.

Reposted from