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#not gonna lie i cried
appleheart · 8 months
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loossemble – sensitive (mv)
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ghost-of-you · 2 years
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But I love you still.
Inspired by @ijustdontlikepeople and the tags in this post.
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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months
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i love the little fic u made of my request and you asked if the readers would like a part 2 AND IM SORRY IF IM BEING TO DELUSIONAL BUT
IF YOU HAVE TIME AND WANT TO OFC COULD U DO THE PART 2, I LOVE YOUR WORK SM I MEAN IT 😭⁉️
HERE COMES PART 2‼️
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We’re gonna get into the movie stuff now
John Dory comes to check out Mount Rageous
As he makes his way through the ventilation he hears crying- but it doesn’t sound like Floyd so he moves on (a bit guiltily)
Once he finds Floyd (and lands face first on the dresser)
John Dory groaned as he pulled himself off the floor in a hurry “Yo! Floyd!”
Floyd looked up from his lap as his eyes widened “John dory? I cant believe it!” Floyd pressed his hands against the wall of his prison “I never thought I’d see any of my brothers again”
John Dory smiled before pressing his hand up to the glass in confidence
“Don’t worry bro I’m gonna get you out of here”
“No! You need to get out of here!” Floyd said urgently “you don’t understand- Velvet and Veneer are giant, pop obsessed succubi with NO talent and they’ve been stealing mine and Y/n’s- it’s only a matter of time now until they come back for more!”
John Dory thought to himself “Y/n? Like our old manager and childhood best friend Y/n? But- why did they take her?”
Floyd sighed to himself, misplaced guilt eating at him a bit “when you guys left, she followed me and after a bit we ended up confessing-“
“I KNEW YOU HAD FEELINGS FOR HER-“
“Shhhhhhh!” Floyd shushed his brother, though he couldn’t deny the smile on his face- he had missed this
“So she’s here?” John Dory said looking around, “I don’t see her anywhere!”
“She got taken by Velvet- as like a personal back up! I don’t know where she is- but if shes having her talent drained she won’t last as long, she isn’t a trained singer JD! I’m worried”
“Don’t worry bro- I’ll get both of you out-!”
JD tried many tricks to try and crack the prison his brother was in but to no luck
“It’s made out of diamond- and there’s only one thing that’s strong enough to shatter diamond” Floyd hoped his brother got the clue-
“A diamond shattering diamond hammer! Where do we get one of those?”
It went way over his head
“No, the only thing strong enough to shatter diamond is the perfect family harmony” Floyd said giving his brother a look of humour
“Of course! The prefect family harmony!”
Floyd nodded looking at his brother with tired but hopeful eyes until-
“Our voices sound like GARBAGE! We need more TROLL!”
“Run John Dory- save yourself” Floyd urged, not wanting to get his brother captured
John Dory nodded, grappling back to the vent and shouting that he’d be back with the rest of the family
During the rescue mission you’re nowhere to be found
Floyd’s theory is correct and you are drained far to quickly-
You turn into a crystal troll just before the rage dome show
Velvet decides to put you in her pocket like a little good luck charm
The perfect family harmony works and shatters the diamond perfectly
Floyd thinking of you as he sings the last line
“Just let me take you to a better place!”
When he wakes up from his crystal form and has a moment with his brothers he looks around and doesn’t see you anywhere
“John Dory, where’s Y/n?”
Everybody starts looking around not being able to see you
Not even Crimp knows where you are
“Velvet! Where’s the other troll? The one you took as a backup?” Veneer said, after confessing that they were frauds
“Oh her? She drained far to fast so I gave her another use” velvet stated- pulling you out of her pocket “she’s my little good luck charm- though she didn’t work so she’s useless to me now”
Floyd gasped, tears finally spilling over as he takes in your completely crystallised form in shock
“No… Nononono”
Veneer snatches you off velvet and hands you to the group of trolls on the floor with remorse
“Y/n? Come on- this cant be happening!”
Floyd brings you into a hug- sobbing as he realises there’s no hope for you
You, though crystallised, can hear everything around you
You try to open your eyes but they’re so heavy
“You can’t do this to me- not after everything we’ve been through together, it’s my fault” Floyd stated through his tears “I just want you back.”
Everyone looks down in sadness, shedding their own tears as they mourn with Floyd
Then
The darkness starts to fade from your vision as you blink a few times
You raise your hand to his face, startling him
“You’re so silly”
you say weakly, watching his eyes tear up again- this time from happiness and disbelief
“You never lost me in the first place”
He brings you into a kiss- putting all of his emotions into it
The crowd cheers as they realise you’re alive and as velvet and veneer are taken away in cuffs
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maskedteatime · 4 months
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i don't smoke
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i know its a terrible contrast to my last few posts. the song just showed up on my tiktok and i had 2 make something of it
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dangerousdan-dan · 5 months
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I’ve been thinking a lot about how Cass’ journey as Batgirl (more specifically after losing her abilities) directly relates to her perspective as a martial artist.
I’m convinced that her choices wouldn’t have been the same if she weren’t a martial artist. The thing is, when you love fighting, and when you’re good at it, you become addicted to a lot of things. To winning, to discipline, to having absolute control over your body, to enduring pain for the sake of greatness. And as someone who, same as Cass, lost all of that without consent because of someone else, I totally understand why when given the choice to be “mediocre for a lifetime or perfect for a year,” she chose the latter.
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That’s what training is, after all. Your legs shake and burn to get that stance just right, your knuckles bleed because you can’t afford to let the skin get soft, you practice that kick a hundred times because you can always make it faster, harder, smoother. In the back of your mind, you know that you’re dooming yourself to the aches of the future, but you keep going because the idea of not achieving perfection is worse.
When Batman tells her “it doesn’t matter how long it takes, what matters is that you give it everything you’ve got”, the most painful part is that she had already given everything. Cass gave her childhood, her happiness, her sweat and blood. When Cass lost her abilities, it was the equivalent of dismissing all the sacrifices that got her where she was, like saying none of it was worth it. She was the best because she had earned it. So, even if she tried to achieve that same greatness again, the I could’ve been more would’ve haunted her forever. She would’ve mourned that potential for the rest of her life.
Lady Shiva herself is a martial artist, and she was perfectly aware of what had been taken away from Cass and what offering it back would mean. Refusing her offer was never an option. The proof?
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Just look how happy she is immediately after getting her abilities back. She doesn’t even care that she’s going to die.
She’s great again, she has agency over her body again.
Her sacrifices matter.
Batgirl (2000) #9
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surreal-duck · 1 year
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I can't do this.
shoutout to girls who are so emotionally repressed in order to take up the reliable role between their friends to the point of breaking down and exploding from the stress you deserve every hug and comfort in the world
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axoplasim · 6 months
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Crawling back out of the depths to draw four ears himself, Clover! 🦭 @journey-to-the-au
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snipersfucker · 10 months
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request from @infintyfandoms: Thought! Mirage is always so reckless, well what if one time he went too far and hurt his friend or s/o (either)?? I feel like he’d blame himself so bad - even if he was blind sighted by a distracted driver. Never drive crazy again or not drive around again or what??
angsty mirage x fem!reader times. thought of making it a headcanon thingy but nah. this one might need a warning that there are descriptions of serious injuries. and im also writing this on 0 hours of sleep thank you very much
A silver Porsche parked in front of the vinyl store you just walked out of was catching the attention of every passerby. Both men and women's eyes were stopping on the vehicle for a bit longer than they would on any regular car, their heads turning slightly to allow them to do that.
Mirage loved that. He loved transforming in different models everyday, the next one even more prestigious than the one before. Just to get that attention every single time.
You noticed a couple of teenage girls staring at your boyfriend, and even though you were fully aware they were doing so only because he was a good-looking car, you still rolled your eyes at it.
Your feet led you to the Porsche and you hopped in. Before getting the chance to point out the shameless staring of the group of teens, Mirage spoke up, "Whatcha got there?"
Your gaze had shifted to the vinyl case before you placed it down on the passenger's seat without much thought.
"Music," you responded casually in a light tone, putting your hands on the steering wheel, even though you knew Mirage would be doing the driving. "You got fans," you murmured under your breath but Mirage could obviously hear it. Your eyes landed on the girls again, and although you weren't particularly jealous, you still didn't appreciate it too much.
"Hell yeah, I do, baby," he said proudly, the grin in his voice palpable, even though you couldn't see it at the moment. And then, he added, a little bit more quietly as if he was saying this to the man who literally stopped in front of the car to admire him, "You wish you looked like that, huh?"
You let out an amused snort, and patted the gear stick with your palm to give him a sign to drive out of the parking lot. "C'mon."
"Let me honk at him," he'd asked for your permission seconds before doing it anyway without you allowing him to, causing the man to jump in his spot and then walk away. You just smacked the passenger's seat in disapproval, not even going on a rant about his behaviour because it was a daily occurrence for Mirage to do whatever he wanted.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended by your sudden reaction, as if he wasn't used to it, "I'm all for violence unless it's directed towards me," he muttered, sounding like an annoyed child. Then, without any warning, he revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot onto the main road. You only rolled your eyes without a word but then, you noticed how fast he was passing all the other cars in his lane, which he would usually cuss out for being slow, as if their owners weren't driving under the speed limit for safety reasons.
"Mirage…" you warned him, using his full name instead of a nickname, which he did not appreciate but decided not to speak on it and just change the topic.
"Jus' tell me it's not George Michael," he said with a short sigh, as if it was very important to him that it, in fact, was not George Michael.
"Mirage..." you warned him once again, ignoring his words, gripping the steering wheel with much more force now to hopefully get him to slow down.
"Nope," he said simply, understanding what you meant without you even having to say it. If he was in his humanoid form, he'd probably cross his arms on his chest and shake his head with that signature smirk indicating that he knew he was in control of the situation. "That's what you get for hitting your poor boy," he added, sounding very content with himself, revving the engine once more just to show you that he, in fact, was not planning on slowing down.
You scoffed. "You deserved it."
"For what?" he began talking in that specific, overly innocent tone, and you just knew he was going to say something sarcastic that would only annoy you even more, "For being so cute and funny?" He asked rhetorically, as if he wasn't aware that he really needn't have honked at that man, and then drive as recklessly as he normally would when you weren't inside him.
But he was very much aware. It was just that his pride didn't allow him to apologise.
"For being a little shit." You decided not to banter with him as per usual, but just to get straight to the point. Even though you were possibly risking starting an argument between you two, you just needed to reprimend him at the moment, especially now that you noticed how nonchalant he was about it.
"Ouch," he pretended to be hurt by what you just said. And although he wasn't actually offended, he still wasn't really in the mood to let you win.
So he sped up even more.
Noticing the opportunity presented right in front of him, the almost empty road ahead of you two, he floored the gas pedal, making you let out a short, quiet noise at the impact in which you got pushed back into the seat.
"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked him with anger in your voice, not raising it just yet, and not actually expecting a response. But you got one anyway:
"Takin' you on a ride date, baby," he answered sarcastically, his overly sweet tone making him sound even more annoying than before.
"Mirage, I—"
If he wasn't as sure in his abilities as he was, he'd never drive over three times faster than the speed limit allowed, never wanting to actually risk you getting hurt in any way.
And it wasn't even his fault, when a sport's car drove right into his left side, before you could even finish your sentence.
It wasn't his fault that the car ran a red light, that it was supposed to stop and wait for him to just drive away without getting thrown to the right by the impact.
It wasn't his fault that he was now rolling over for the fifth time, his roof and sides hitting the hard asphalt every single time.
You weren't even making any noises anymore so that he would know that you were with him, conscious, alive. He ignored the sound of his glass shattering, his metal body getting scratched, bent and painfully ruined, just to be able to hear your breath.
The other car was in a much worse condition, but he didn't care. The only thing occupying his mind was you, your heartbeat he would do anything to hear again. He needed to make sure you were still there.
He felt it all. He felt the pain that came with getting drove into by another car, with flipping over with unimaginable speed and force. But he needed to make sure you were alright.
And he couldn't even do anything to stop his worst nightmare from beginning to play right in front of his very optics.
Then, after a few moments that felt like hours to him, everything finally came to an end. The hiss coming out of him was still hearable, the hot steam, the liquid pouring out of his fual lines threatened to mix with the flames growing with every passing second. But it was finally quiet; no noise of metal hitting the asphalt distracted him from listening to your body.
His spark nearly exploded with relief when he heard the faint sound of your heartbeat. He wanted to transform, to be able to hold you, to get you out of him so that his bent roof wouldn't be pressing against your wounded head.
When people began to gather up around him, he realised he had a decision to make: to transform and risk getting hunted down just like it happened to Bumblebee, or to stay there and pray to Primus, pray to the people now surrounding him that they'd help you and make sure you were okay.
He wanted to scream at them to hurry up, to get you out, to make that heartbeat of yours sound more promising. To let him know that you weren't going to—
The idea of losing you forever crossed his mind for a split second before he could even stop it.
And it was his fault that he was going a lot over the speed limit, too distracted by the need to tease you, to win the argument, and show you that you had nothing to say in the way he was behaving.
It was his fault that there was crimson running down your forehead, the drops rolling past the hairs of your eyebrows, all the way down to your jaw, then staining your shirt with your own blood.
It was his fault that your body felt lifeless against his ruined upholstery, the only motion it was making was an almost undetectable rise of your chest every couple of seconds.
His train of thoughts got interrupted by the distant sound of sirens getting closer and closer to him. The people were talking, someone was yelling, it all making an irritating mixture of human noises he didn't need to hear at the moment.
Mirage felt his left door being opened or rather being torn out of him in a couple painful motions. He didn't care.
He just wanted them to take you away from him.
When he no longer felt your weight on his driver's seat, he almost let a sound of relief through his radio, but just now noticed that it's been ruined, making it impossible for him to do so. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier, too stunned to be able to say anything to you, even though your name and endless questions if you were okay wanted to escape him.
Cold liquid hit his hot metal body, the lower temperature of it somewhat helping him get in a clearer state of mind. Even though he felt deserving of being on fire, he appreciated the slight relief it gave him.
Somebody placed you on a stretcher, put you carefully in another vehicle, and then closed the door. He couldn't see you anymore but was sure the humans would take good care of you. Better care than he was able to offer.
The loud sirens hit his audio receptors before he registered the ambulance leaving the crash site.
And the sound was still bouncing against the interior walls of his helm every single day since the accident. The imagine of your limp body, his steering wheel covered in your blood, your head pressed uncomfortably against the remains of his left window...
Two whole weeks passed and he couldn't think of anything else but you. You in that horrible state he put you in himself.
The guilt was eating him alive, and even though he'd make Noah visit you everyday in the hospital to make sure your condiction was stable, he still couldn't help but beat himself up and be worried sick.
"Concussion, five broken ribs, broken arm and nose, and she was fucking bleeding from her liver, man," your mutual friend told him after leaving the hospital for the first time, after the doctors allowed anybody to visit you, even though you weren't conscious yet.
It affected Noah nearly as much as it did the robot. The only difference was that the human had no reason to blame himself for it, because it wasn't his recklessness that nearly killed you.
Mirage fell silent.
He got quiet, very quiet, unusually for him. Every Autobot he used to hang out with knew what happened, how much you meant to him, and how affected he was by the accident. They noticed the sudden shift in his behaviour, the once bubbly personality disappearing just so he could dwell in guilt in peace.
The thing that bothered him a lot among others was that he couldn't see you. He couldn't walk into the hospital you were being taken care of in. He couldn't sit next to you and tell you how painfully sorry he was for doing it to you, for putting you in danger, for hurting you so much your pain radiated off you body and made him feel it, too.
Noah insisted on repairing him, and he agreed purely because then he'd be able to park in front of the hospital to be as near you as possible.
But he was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.
And it still didn't change when you finally got discharged. He was not the one to pick you up from the hospital, it was Noah and Bee. He couldn't face you.
You asked about him when you woke up from the coma, your friend sitting next to you on the uncomfortable hospital chair only shrugging in response, telling you he didn't know anything about Mirage, where he was or how he was.
It was a lie. The robot was spending his time either in the garage, getting fixed by his only human friend, or out on the road, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone would crash into him again, making him feel that pain again. That pain he thought he deserved for harming you.
And when you insisted on Noah taking you to the garage to see him, after getting the information about his location out of the poor human, Mirage couldn't help but feel even worse than before.
You were alive, of course you were alive, but he also did notice the way you winced with every step, how dull the colour of your skin was compared to the times before the accident, how fragile you looked, standing there in front of him with Noah not leaving your side in case you'd collapse onto the floor.
You were alive, but also in so much pain he couldn't even look at you without feeling a strong sting in his spark.
His optics shifted to Noah in an instant, as if he was trying to bash him for taking you here, which he responded to out loud with his hands raised in a defensive gesture, "She threatened me."
You didn't even know what you were feeling at that moment. A mixture of sadness, annoyance, impatience, and hurt made you unable to say anything, forcing you to just stand there in silence. Suddenly, a short wave of pain washed over your right side, making you grimace and put your only free palm on the area surrounding your liver.
As soon as Mirage noticed your movement, he made an involuntary step towards you, his servos extended in your direction, as if he was trying to both comfort you and catch you if you were to fall.
Noah immediately asked, "You okay?" His eyes shifting between your hand on your side and your pained face. You just nodded.
Uncomfortable silence fell between the three of you, and the other human was close to replacing it with whistling just so that he wouldn't have to stand there awkwardly without a word.
"Imma just leave you two, yeah?" He scratched the back of his neck, his feet already leading him in the direction of the exit. "Jus'... scream if you die or somethin'..." he added, the awkwardness making him joke about things he normally wouldn't joke about.
And then, he left. He left poor Mirage with even poorer you. Alone.
You let out a grunt, making your way to the nearest chair to sit down. He was ready to help you with everything, but he didn't know if you even wanted him to, so he just stayed in his spot.
"You look bad," you commented, lazily motioning to his beaten-up body with your hand. The raspiness, the weakness in your voice almost made him drop to his knees.
He responded unsurely after a pause, a forced, unamused smirk on his face plate, "...You should see the other guy."
It was awkward. Awkward as never before, you two having always found it pretty easy to communicate with each other. But now... Now he couldn't help but feel that unpleasant feeling in his tank when you spoke up and made him say something back to you.
And it was his fault.
Your reaction to his little joke wasn't something you could control. A short, quiet chuckle left your mouth, causing you to grab your right side even more tightly and a wince of pain on your face to deepen.
She can't even laugh.
He felt so excruciatingly bad he had to fight himself not to transform into a car and just drive away.
You wanted to tell him that you've been told the other driver didn't make it. But you knew the war it would start in his mind if you shared that information with him, so you stayed silent.
"You look terrible," he muttered after a few moments of observing your body, as if to himself to comment on the damage he'd done.
You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. "That's exactly what every woman likes to hear," you responded, deciding that a little banter would be better than sitting without any words being exchanged.
Mirage's eyes widened slightly as he took a step towards you, his servos up in the air again in a specific gesture that indicated that he didn't actually mean it like that.
He had this tendency to make things worse with his words, and normally it wouldn't bother him at all, but this time it was you. He didn't want to make thing worse with you.
"No, no, you're pretty. Gorgeous, in my humble opinion. Walking perfection even," he wanted to correct himself, spurting word after word just to show you that he didn't want you to be mad at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he added, bringing his servos to his face plate to cover it in... embarrassment.
Something new for him.
You shook your head, looking up at him with a small smile. "I do look kinda ter—"
Before you could finish your sentence, he said with much more confidence now, "...For everything."
He rarely apologised.
But you deserved to hear it. Even if you weren't ready to forgive him just yet, even if you were to never forgive him, he just needed you to know that he regretted it.
You frowned, opening your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you again, "Maybe I shouldn't have be the fastest car in Brooklyn that day. Maybe I should've listened to you and not be a little shit," he recalled the way you called him these few weeks ago, just minutes before the accident. With determination in his tone, he continued, "You can hate me, I can take it." But then, he changed his mind as soon as he realised he would prefer if you didn't hate him, "Actually. Hate me for the next three days at max. Please. If you don't want me to rip my vents out."
You snorted weakly once more, the movement of your body making you wince in pain again.
He finally found enough courage within himself to get closer to you. With a couple of steps, he kneeled down in front of you and extended one of his servos in your direction, as if non-verbally telling you to stop laughing and not cause yourself even more pain.
"'m sorry," he whispered his apology again, the sincere look in his optics showing you just how much he cared for you.
"It wasn't y—"
"It was," he interrupted you in a much more serious tone, but it was still filled with softness, "I was stupid..."
"Nothing new," you managed to blurt out before closing your eyes shut and grunting, a grimace on your face as you felt another sting of pain, which you were kind of used to now.
You opened your eyes and looked up at his worried optics observing your every move, his servos desperately wanting to touch and help you but he knew it'd only make things worse due to his size.
You let out a short chuckle at your own joke as soon as your body allowed you to.
"Not funny," he reprimanded you with a serious face, not finding your apparent discomfort amusing at all, even though he agreed with your words.
"You were just making jokes ab—"
"So?"
You rolled your eyes at him. "Child," you insulted him, fully aware how much he hated being called out on his childishness.
"I'm older than your cute little Earth, please," he scoffed.
"No, you're not," you deadpanned.
"...So?"
"I hate you," you said, although a small smile on your lips betrayed you.
"That's the spirit," he sighed but the corners of his lips curled up as well. A beat of silence passed and his gaze went back to your face, "I meant that."
You frowned slightly.
"I am sorry. For being the..." he was about to say something that would hurt his pride and ego, but decided it was worth it, "...the dumbest machine there is. Even a hairdryer is smarter than me," he insulted himself, hoping the sacrifice would make you like him again.
"You're right." You nodded, fighting back a chuckle.
He raised his arms in a playfully offended, confused gesture. "You could at least disagree, damn."
You shook your head in amusement.
After another beat of silence, he said seriously, "You're never coming inside me again."
"Wow."
"Should've worded it better, yeah..." he trailed off, "Primus, woman, give me a break." He let out a small laugh when he noticed your amused reaction to his sentence. "No, seriously... I... You're my girl, yeah? Don't want you to... You know, be in pain."
Why did he have to be so awkward about his feelings? Now that he finally had the chance to show you how much he loved you and never wanted to see you hurt again.
"I still have your..." he wanted to say that he still had your blood on some of his parts that didn't want to come off, but then decided it wasn't the best time to tell you that, "I almost lost my mind when I couldn't hear you," he confessed, his tone regaining its sincerity, the look in his optics describing his guilt to you without words.
He was referring to the moment he was so desperately trying to silence everything around him just to be able to find your heartbeat.
"I'm okay..." Your tone was soft, quiet, as if you were trying not to scare a lost, disoriented puppy.
"You're not okay," he disagreed with a slightly clenched jaw, angry at himself, not even for a second at you, "You..." He lowered himself so that he'd be able to whisper to you, as if saying these words more loudly would make them come true someday, "You almost died... I almost killed you..."
His face panel was close enough to your body for you to put your hand against his warm, metal cheek. Mirage immediately melted at the touch, his optics closing slowly just to allow him to savour the softness of your palm as much as he could.
"It wasn't your fault..." you started your monologue, this time the robot allowing you to continue, "I didn't die. I might have a broken bone or two..." He opened his eyes at this sentence, giving you a sad look. "...But I'll be alright. I didn't die," you repeated, which gained you an unsure nod from your boyfriend, who was now avoiding making eye contact with you.
You didn't force him to look up at you.
"I promise..." he trailed off, not wanting to show you how weak he felt, "I promise I'll never do that again..." His gaze went back to meet yours as you smiled softly, your eyes filled with love you had for him. "I'll never be dumber than a hairdryer, you have my unreliable word. And I'll never argue with you. I'll just say that I'm sorry, and that my woman is always right, and I'll shut up for as long as you want me to. And I... I'll never drive over twenty-five. Yeah, it hurts. But guess what hurts more. Seeing you with a broken bone or two."
Joking might've been the only way he would be able to overcome the sorrow he felt within himself. But it worked both for you and him. You really wouldn't have it any other way.
"Tell me," you whispered with a slight head tilt, slowly closing the gap between your faces.
He frowned, not understanding what you meant by that, but then the small smirk on your lips explained it to him.
He rolled his optics, the remains of guilt still evident in them, although with every passing second and every joke, they seemed to disappear bit by bit.
"'m sorry. My woman is always right," he repeated himself, pretending to find it very boring, as if he didn't really want to admit that. But he did. He did want you to know that he meant every single thing that rolled off his glossa.
Your smile widened immediately, your eyes closing as you minimized the gap between your and Mirage's lips completely.
And then, after long weeks of not being able to forgive himself for hurting the only woman he loved, he was finally able to feel relief.
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battleonthebigbridge · 6 months
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Ending it all.
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formulaonedirection · 2 years
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💘💓💗💖💕 Gap-tooth smile 💕💖💗💓💘
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twpsyn-who · 3 months
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Ok, but hear me out - Marco gets shallowed whole by the titan, then Reiner kills it and they all think he died and stuff. But, you know, he didn't. Because they killed the titan too soon. So, Marco gets to I Don't Know Man crawl out of the titan. The only problem? He doesn't have any odm, nor can he risk trying to get anyone's attention in case the 3 notices him and finish the job for good.
Now, this is my sleep deprived mind talking but- Marco gets outside the wall and finds a tiny titan that's docile for some reasons. Like, I don't know, that titan sees Marco and is like "I'm gonna protect this guy with my life". Marco doesn't complain. Problem is that he can't get inside the wall, he needs to get in contact with someone from the SC (as they often go outside the wall) or preferably find Jean (which is unlikely as he's going to join the MP). Cue to the expedition outside and Marco coming riding on the tiny titan and finds Jean, Armin and Reiner and the first thing he does is yell "Jean!" all happy and relieved and finally feeling safe after so much time alone.
... Then he notices Reiner and all the color goes away from his face. He thinks "We are fucked" - so does Reiner.
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hcdragonwrites · 9 months
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Just one night (a @journey-to-the-au Drabble)
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Ok this is the part two! This is the comfort/ fluff of what happens after Six Eared Macaques previous rampage from Nightmares. I am glad I split these into two so people can pick and choose.
Mild trigger warning: Brief mentions of attempted SA (again nothing goes into detail at all but still sometimes this can still be a trigger.)
It’s over.
The nightmare is over.
Then why does it feel like i'm breathing but I can’t catch my breath?
Willow felt her heart beating too fast, her mind repeating the nightmare.
The cave still smelled of blood.
The imposter was dead. He lay there, finally revealed, a monkey of gray blue fur with a face of shadows. Nothing to be distinguishable of who, or what, his personality had been before it assumed the skin of their leader. Of her friend.
Of Wukong.
Her Wukong had come through the water of Water Curtain Cave in a flash of gold, eyes blazing red. Almost like a Heaven send. A blessing.
In that moment Willow had stepped forward, to the embrace of this nightmare she had dutifully taken as her yoke, a blur or fiery orange had smashed its way through the curtain of water.
“IMPOSTER!” He had called in challenge, his staff coming free of his ear. With a flick of the Kings wrist, the weapon grew in tremendous size.
The imposter had turned, hackles rising, bloody mouth circling back into a snarl. Wukong had roared. The imposter had screamed. Then they were upon each other. It had been a battle, long and difficult. Fur had flown, stone had shaken. At times the combatants had traversed the skies, shooting like two wayward stars from a bow through the Heavens. More blood fell.
In the midst of it, the imposter had cleaned the remnants of its meal from his mouth, making it impossible to tell the twisting and twining fighters apart. Which was which?
Willow had waited as finally, after gods and other immortals had been unable to tell who was who, Mama Courage and Wisdom stepped forward. Willow couldn’t hear the words being spoken between the celestials and Wisdom. She could only hear a ringing in her ears, a drumming of her heart.
She couldn’t catch her breath.
Willow's palms were wet with sweat and white. Whiter than porcelain. Courage took one of those hands, holding it tight. Breaking her numbness, her shock. Willow grasped the hand, holding on. The fear still coiled in her gut, a snake tightening its hold on her. But Courages hand was the anchor she clung to as her body battles within itself.
Wisdom had found him out, had picked out the real Wukong. A mother knew her child. That’s when the imposter had lost. He had felt it, probably, sensing the shift in the wind. In that moment he tried to run. The mirage of his disguise had fallen off in the fright. Wild white eyes, teeth bared of flesh. And now.
He was nothing more than a stain on the floor.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” The words echo, still alive within Willows head.
Willow was trying to drown those words out.
She’s failing.
The storm inside her body is a rage of water, threatening to drag her down. Those blue eyes flash sharply in her head and Willow feels herself shake.
“Willow?”
She startles. She flinches, shaken from the very real echo of what had almost happened. “Reaffirm our union… Maybe more later.”
Willow looks up, kneeling on the stone floor of the cave. She doesn’t remember when she sat back down. Wukong stands before her. He blocks her view from the rest of the cave, from what the other troop members are beginning to clean up. He blocks her view from the bodies. But Willow still sees the imposter, has to see it. She has to kill the fear in her head that at any moment, any second, those ice eyes can come back and stare into her. To ask things of her that make her soul pull away and her body go cold.
“Willow?”
Wukong stands before her, eyes o so vulnerable. His voice is bleeding uncertainty, his hands fidgeting. He looks to her then looks away, confused on what to do.
Willow also doesn’t know what to do.
How do you tell your friend that someone wore their skin and killed and began to stalk her every step? Willow feels Mama Courage beside her, the hand squeezing. She looks up.
‘It’s him Willow. It’s our Stone Monkey.’ She signs and taps in her unique monkey way. It had taken a long time for Willow to learn this sign language, struggling but wanting to understand. Now, after decades of living together she had mastered this speech. ‘Go. You both need each other.’
‘What of you? He needs his mothers too.’ Willow signs back, not trusting her voice. That storm inside her throat is threatening to release, the track of her tears still wet. Mama Courage notices this and frowns in concern.
‘He needs a friend more. He needs you.’ She signs back. ‘And you need him most of all. To banish that demon, that nightmare. You are still shaking.’
It was true. Willows body still shook as if she had caught a deep bone chill. The blue eyes flash in her memory. Ice cold and drowning her from within Wukongs face. She had been chilled in a sense.
Before she could respond, Mama Courage had stepped away. She disappeared behind Wukong, going to help Wisdom with the mess and to spread the word of what had occurred. To reveal the truth.
Now it is just the two of them.
“It’s ok Willow.” Wukong spoke, gaze still averted. “I asked my Master if I could spend a night to … to fix the problems at home.” Willow watched as those hands wrung against each other. “But if - if what has happened- if my face brings you concern- makes you uncomfortable— I understand.”
Willow saw him step a bit off, unsure of what to do.
The eye of the hurricane was moving over Willow, that numb silence beginning to break.
Another half shuffle. He was moving closer to the carnage behind him, further from her reach. Further from her.
He’s just as afraid as I am that something has broken between us. The realization hits her like a slap.
The great wave within her, the one she had tampered down to keep her calm, to keep her cool as she had faced that monster covered in blood—
It broke through her.
Before Wukong could step further back, to disappear, to help, Willow had his face in her hands.
Willow braced her courage and stared into those eyes, determined to banish the fear that somehow, the monster had escaped. The Monkey King's eyes widened, gold within a sea of red. Willow pressed a kiss to his temple, a test.
If you are my sweet boy, my handsome monkey, she thought vehemently, this will prove it.
If you are that monster … I’ll see it in your eyes.
Willow waited.
Wukongs face was full of surprise. He blinked rapidly, uncomfortable about the intense eye contact. He looked away, looked to the side. Then he looked back up.
“Willow… what … what happened ?” For he could sense something beginning to churn within his friend. A tipping point of sorts and he, the cliff she balanced on.
The monster is dead.
Relief.
Willow breathed out. The air in her lungs shook.
Relief broke the iron in her spine. What little courage she had clung to swept away and she let it. In the dozens of decades she had been with Wukong, had cultivated and grown their trust and friendship, she had found and grown a safe place to be herself. Not Earth Reaching Willow of Polestar Palace, Eldest Daughter. To be her true self. To be one with the emotions she had suppressed. The feelings she had to repress as a princess unless she gave the wrong impression, put on the wrong face, among her fathers courtiers.
I want my friend. The longing was fierce and wild. It scorched her veins and pricked her eyes with fresh tears. A strangled sob passed between her teeth as she tried to stifle it with her fist.
“Willow?”
I need my friend - I need him.
She could be just Willow here, in his arms. She didn’t need to be a shield. She didn’t need to be a princess. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, holding.
“The last thing I want is for you to go.” She whispered. And that’s when it fell. The tears came fast and hard, her body shaking with it. The hurricane was passing over here, the eye of the storm now past. The wind within her was full of the past years spent with the imitation of her friend. His watching eyes, his burning brushes against her hands. Those days when he had hinted, suggested, and plainly stated he wanted more—
Wukongs hands held her arms, cooed in her ear. “It’s ok Willow. Let it out. Breathe.”
“Don’t go…” she whispered, making a mess of tears on his shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here.”
Nightmares. She felt them all coming across her mind then, each time she lifted her face to catch a breath. The nightmares flashed into her head. But they weren’t nightmares.
“He can’t hurt you Willow. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.” Wukongs voice was fierce in that promise as he turned to press a kiss to her temple. Sealing the promise as he rubbed her arms like a mother to a babe.
They were memories. Of all the times the imposter, the Six Eared Macaque, had pressed her for touches. Had asked for kisses. Had attempted many times to get her away from the eyes of others. Earth Reaching Willow had walked the halls feeling eyes always upon her.
He had cornered her one terrible night and had reached for her. Willow had felt like a rabbit caught in a snare as his hand had caressed her face, had trailed to her lips. He had been interrupted by Rin Rin coming in to ask for bouquet suggestions, wanting to know what blossoms to pair best with what greens in preparation for a feast. Her friend had saved her that night and she didn’t even know.
None of them had known.
Each time the memory popped up, Willow flinched away, trying to curl deeper into the orange fur. Trying to burrow into her friend because he was real. And she needed that reality from the wake that was her mind. It grounded her, allowed her to be scared. Willow breathed him in. The imposter had never smelled quite right, had never felt quite right, hadn’t talked quite right. At least to her.
Wukong, this Wukong- her Wukong, smelled of the world, of growing things and sunlight, of ozone and wind. Of rain upon dry stone. The Six Eared Macaque had been floral and fruity, sweet like a honeyed nectar trap, like a carnivorous flower. And she the unwitting fly.
All the things he had tried to do to lure her in had failed. Willow had survived.
Barely.
My Wukong is here. My friend, my confidant, my partner in this eternity. I do not have to be brave anymore. I don’t have to be strong. Here, I can cry.
Nothing could ever replicate the muscle memory, the familial way that Willow and Wukong both folded into each other's embrace. They had hundreds of years to build this body-deep familiarity with one another. This instinctual trust.
Not even a six eared all knowing demonic monkey could copy that.
Willows sobs were not slowing. They were gaining traction instead. All the fear of years of living with a masked monster in their midst, all the close calls that Willow was remembering now, battered her. Wukong shifted a bit and she felt more than saw Wukong grow in size. Her arms moved apart, having to move from holding his face to grab his middle.
“I’m going to move us Willow. Is that alright ?” His voice is soft, questioning.
My sweet friend, so tender in his asking.
She can’t trust her own voice but nods. Then they were up, an arm beneath her leg and another holding her back. As the sounds of the waterfall retreated, Willow felt the tightness in her chest start to loosen. Breaths she couldn’t take before, that seemed to catch in her throat, came easier.
Each step took them away from the roar of the water. With each crash of tears, Willow curled into her friend. Mama Courage had been right. She had needed him.
Wukong finally stopped moving, settling the both of them down onto the stone floor. They were in an alcove, a bit of a stone hollow off of the main passageway. Willow looked up at Wukong then as he crossed his legs. He nestled her into his lap. His tail wrapped her own lags, a warm blanket against the cold.
“Comfortable?”
“Mhm..” Willow sniffed. Her nose would be stuffed later but she didn’t care. Couldn’t care. She wiped her eyes and tried to see through them.
Wukong looked terribly sad, his face on the brink of breaking itself.
“Oh darling…” she hiccuped. Willow touched his forehead. The golden circlet was cold across her fingers. “It’s not your fault.”
She could see it hurting, eating away at her friend. A worm within an apple core, destroying all the good fruit about it.
They only had one night. One night.
Willow wished for more than just a night.
“Wu-Wukong.” Her voice came out thick. Her monkey leaned into her touch, those golden eyes warm and full of love.
“You don’t need to relive those things.” He said. “Not tonight. Not ever again if you wish. You don’t even have to trust me again. My face … it has been used for terrible things…monstrous things. I see it in all of your eyes.”
Unspilled tears pooled in his face. “I can see it in your eyes. In my mothers. In my friends. In Ba and Ma and Liu and Rin Rins eyes.”
“You all have ghosts in your eyes and I can’t banish them. Because I caused them. ”
Those sad words were spoken with such sorrow, with such rejection that Willows was moving before she could think. Willow pulled his face down to hers.
“This isn’t your fault Wukong.” Willow said.
“It is completely my fault…”
“Oh my sweet Monkey…” She said into his fur. I wish you didn’t have to go- I wish you could stay here, stay with us with me, to help chase those memories into the dark. “How I missed you.”
Wukong swiped some of her tears off her cheek, rumbling not words but noises.
“But you have a pilgrimage to be a part of. You are needed there.” Willow says.
“I’m needed here.” The guilt is eating him, swallowing him up bit by bit. The words he couldn’t say were evident in his eyes. If I had been here none of this would have happened, they said.
“You will always be needed here.”
“Maybe not as welcome.” Wukong pulled back, looking away. “ A stranger took my face and committed atrocities. That face, my face, hurt you. My mothers. My friends. My home.” His voice is shaking. From anger, from sorrow, she did not know. Wukong was powerful. He had challenged Heaven, had defeated dragons, outwitted gods. He had shapeshifted into a thousand different things, had gained a weapon that matched his own abilities. He was a warrior, a King who cared for his people.
Wukong hadn’t been able to protect them. It ate at him. Swallowed him in an endless loop of pain.
“I wasn’t here to protect you.” He whispered. Wukong had burst through the cave, seeking his doppleganger with anger. When he had seen the bloody remains of Cloud, the smiling face of his imitation covered in blood and approaching his mothers and Willow—
He had lost it.
“Wukong look at me.”
He didn’t move his head, despondent. Willow dug her fingers in deeper to the fur, twisting the large monkey about just enough to see him clearly.
She carded those fingers through Wukongs fur, half comfort for her and half comfort for him. Those fingers plucked and pulled, tugged and tended in the ways the monkey king had shown her, all those years ago when she first came to Flower Fruit Mountain.
“It’s better than brushing,” He had said. “It’s a way we say we love one another and strengthen that love. A language spoken through our hands.”
Willow spoke that silent language now. She moved the fingers through and around his face, over his ears. Willow silently kissed the tears from his cheeks as she cried her own. His pain was hers. And hers was his.
In that silent and dark place the two took shelter against the world. Willow from her own memories. Wukong from his own perceived failings.
The story of what happened fell slowly from Willows lips. She held nothing back. Wukong would either stiffen or growl, huff or pull her closer at each new unearthed memory. Willow lived them again here and now, feeling the night slip between her fingers like grains of sand. She had only one night.
One night to banish that blue-eyed monster from its association with Wukong. I won’t let that demon take him from me.
It was a fierceness that surprised Willow. It gave back some of her strength, allowing her to speak nakedly about the truth of what had happened since Wukong began his pilgrimage.
I won’t let him be poisoned to me. I won’t let my experience of a few years erase more than a lifetime of memories.
Willow would not leave that between them. She loved Wukong too much to lose him to some faceless cannibal that had been a drop in the ocean of time they had spent together.
It would take more than a night Willow knew, to repair what things had been shaken. But she would get the worst of it done. She would find a way to see him again before his journey was done. She needed him. And he needed her.
If I have to blackmail all of Heaven I will. I’ll air my fathers own dirty laundry to steal a few moments with Wukong on the road. Then once he’s home I won’t let him go till he knows he’s wanted and loved by all of us. He’s family.
Willow cried and in turn counseled her friend. Wukong simply sat at times to listen, at others times he spoke of promises and things he would do, ways he would make it up to her. Willow would shake her head.
“Just be you. Just always and forever be my lovely Monkey.”
“I promise.”
And together, in the very heart of the mountain, the two wept. Once the sun rose, Wukong brought Willow back to his mothers. He said his goodbyes. The pain and indecision on his face was at war with itself. Willow, when her turn came to say goodbye, took Wukongs hand. She wrapped her pinky around his.
“When I see you again I’ll tell you of all the things we’ve done.” Willow whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I will tell you of the seasons change and I will tell you of the coconut toddy and sweet plumb wine we drink for you on your birthday. Of Ba and Ma’s latest stunts, of how Liu and Rin Rin act cuter than ever as they continue to court. I will tell you of all the babies born and all of the younglings who try to prove themselves to their amors.”
Willow felt Wukong shake a bit. She tightened her hold on his other hand, squeezing. “I will tell you of the new trees we plant, of the new games we invent, of the new relationships we cultivate.”
“The most important thing I will tell you though is how much we love and miss you, Wukong. How we are all eagerly awaiting you back at home. How, even now, I can’t wait for your return.”
“You … mean that?” He stared, golden sunset eyes misting over with new tears.
“Oh love. You don’t have to ask. I always miss you.” She smiled. “You are my handsome monkey. My lovely monkey. My best friend. I want you to be happy. And if ever those fellows you travel with make you guess or judge yourself harshly— then I will remind them why I chose you. Of all the beings and people of the world and Heaven, I picked you. And you picked me.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“The sooner you go.” Willow said softly. “The sooner you will come back to Flower Fruit Mountain. And the sooner I can enjoy those peaceful days with my husband.”
Wukong gave one last desperate look back, and it took all of his family’s willpower not to call him, to beg him to stay. Instead, Willow waved smiling at him. Mama Courage and Mama Wisdom both held each other, smiling at their boy.
Marshal Liu stepped closer to the smaller group, along with Ma and Ba and Beng. A silent gesture of we will take care of them, in that action.
Wukong smiled, half heartedly, and leapt through the water. Gone as quickly as he had arrived.
Willow turned then, hands clasped within their robed sleeves. She had a task to do now.
“Marshal Liu?”
“You have an idea, don’t you Mrs Willow?”
“Are my thoughts that evident?” Willow smiled as Marshal Liu nodded. He kept pace with her. walking as Willow turned deeper into the cave.
“I need a few scrolls of parchment.” The idea had already taken shape in her mind. Wukong may be stuck within his duties to his pilgrims. But she was not. She would have to be wise, be careful. She didn’t want to turn this into a heavenly spectacle. She did have a few contacts, however, that could be trusted with the whole truth of her urgency. “I need to write a few letters to Heaven.”
“Heaven?”
“Yes. I know Liu. I don't write home often.” As the sounds of the waterfall faded again, Willow felt her heart thrum with determination. “One night is hardly enough time to heal what has been wrecked here. And I intend on calling on a few favors.” She would send her letters, seeking out sympathetic ears discreetly. She would help Sun Wukong heal just as much as he had helped her. They would do so together. Even if the distance may be great I will find a way.
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tatakaeeren · 2 years
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Ichigo Kurosaki Substitute Shinigami | Bleach tybw ep1
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disaster-otter · 1 year
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Okey, just take a second to talk about this scene on the show, because all of us knew how traumatized Ellie was in the game bc in saint lake city she don't talk or make any jokes, and you actually feel like she's kind of distant ( and possibly remembering the winter).
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But Ellie's face here??? She just needs a hug and Joel to try to forget everything that just happened with David and his stupid cannibal community. She is tired and needs someone she trusts to comfort her
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pup-pee · 6 months
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i almost cried @ the end of this issue bee tea dubs
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bart realizing 4 the 1st time he has huge feet </3
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ssentimentals · 2 years
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dating dino feels like…
having best friend and lover all in one. being friends first is important for him, he needs a solid foundation before taking things one step further. he fell in love with you slowly, uncovering you layer by layer; your appearance lured him in, but it’s your heart for which he stayed.
('do i look good?' you ask, nervously looking at your boyfriend. 'should i change into something else?'
chan smiles, shaking his head. your fussing over meeting his friends is cute, but he doesn't get why you're so nervous. 'my family won't care about your outfit, i swear.'
'first impression is important!' you argue, frowning.
'and you will make a striking one, i promise.' chan comes closer, hugging you from behind. 'first they'll think you are pretty and then they'll get to know you and will realize why i am so gone for you. your smile is pretty, but your heart is prettier, believe me.')
chan’s image can be found next to “chivalry” word in a dictionary. he’s doing it all: opening the doors, walking on the side of a sidewalk, putting coat on you when it’s cold out, pulling out chair and you better let him, because for him those little acts speak volumes, they help him convey his feelings for you in a subtle way. he gets a bit lost with words so actions work better for him.
('you do know, right?' he suddenly asks and you look up in confusion, not understanding what he’s means. 'that I love you. you know that, right?' he starts stressing when all you do is gape at him in shock and continues: 'i just- i think i forget to actually say it, you know-'
'you say it to me all the time,' you interrupt, looking at him seriously. 'every time you bring me my favorite takeout, every time you go out of your way to be there for me, every time you message me asking if i'm alright or if i slept well. channie,' you cradle his face in your hands, 'you say it to me all the time. and i hear you.' the smile he gives you is full of gratitude and affection. 'but you still can say it more, you know.' you tease, making both of you laugh.
'love you, i love you.' he rambles, attacking you with kisses.)
dates with chan are either super chill ('you, me, takeout and netflix sounds good, doesn't it?') either super fancy ('bought you hundred and one roses, because you deserve them and because they show my love nicely'). he likes to mix up, selfishly and a bit childishly wants to be your first one in everything, wants certain places and emotions to be associated with him and only him.
('you look awfully smug,' you comment, when you both go out of the very popular and hard to get restaurant. 'what is it?'
'nothing, i'm just happy that your first time here was with me,' he answers honestly, taking your hand in his. 'now, for you this place will be linked to me, always.')
chan is 'what's on your mind? tell me everything' and 'your problems are my problems as well' kind of guy. he strives to be your favorite person to go to, his mission is to be on your speed dial in case of emergencies, his aim is for you to feel like you are never ever alone and with him it really is like that.
dating chan is like jumping and knowing that you won't fall because on the other side everything is already laid out for your safe landing. he makes you feel like there is nothing to fear in this world, that friendship is the biggest gift but love is the biggest reward.
a/n: when i say that chan is not even close to being my bias but he IS in top3 of best boyfriends in svt list - does it make sense? do you get me guys? pls tell me that you do, this boy is the bEST!! anyway, here is the link to my other works, come say hi <3 - nini
tag list: @pearlygraysky @woozionascooter @smalliechelle @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n (please let me know if you want to be added!)
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