#you deserved all the good things in this world

[kitimeq]

surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦

pairing: sylus x reader

summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe try to kidnap you in the process too).

tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!

word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry

warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍

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You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.

And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.

Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.

Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.

That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.

And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.

“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.

You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.

“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.

“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.

“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.

“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?

“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.

“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.

“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???

You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.

“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.

“No!” You said before you could think.

“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.

That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.

And then you heard the knock.

You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating appearance. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like a complete psychopath.

One. Two. Three.

You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.

Sylus.

Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.

“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.

Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.

“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.

“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”

”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.

He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.

“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.

“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these similar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.

“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.

“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.

Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.

“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.

“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?.”

“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes from you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”

“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.

You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand, bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.

“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.

The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself suddenly being lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.

“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.

“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.

“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.

“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red eyes, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.

“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”

You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.

“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me, when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.

“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.

“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.

“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”

“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying, that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.

“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.

“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.

”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.

“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.

“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.

“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”

It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.

“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood almost motionless before you, devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his movements. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?

“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.

“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.

“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.

“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”

He placed his hand on his heart.

“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.

“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.

“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.

“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.

“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.

He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.

“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”

“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.

“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.

“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.

“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.

”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.

He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.

“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”

You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.

“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”

He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.

“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”

“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.

“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.

“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.

“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really though it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” I smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.

“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“

“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“

“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”

”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“

”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”

“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 zone that would pose and actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.

“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”

“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.

“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.

“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Sy—”

“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[anna-pineappel]

This has been sitting in my Tumblr Drafts for a while, and I'm finally putting my thoughts in on this. Fair warning: this is going to be a long rant of a post, sorry not sorry!

I will NEVER write fanfic for financial gain! Obviously, with fanfiction, I don't own the characters/setting/Source Material, so it would not be wise to put my work behind a paywall. I do have some OC writing content, I was getting back into it earlier this year, then Peace in the Moonlight's prequel, Terror in the Shadows entered the chat and I am now high off of my Crackship StettiHo 😅 ANYWAYS... even if I ever got to the point where I wanted to 'Publish' my OC writing, I would do so on AO3/Tumblr/Google Drive PDF... where no money would be exchanged. I've been told I have potential to write professionally, and while it is very validating and flattering, it is not something I'm interested in, for a number of reasons:

Anytime I decide to make money off a creative endeavor, I almost immediately lose interest in that endeavor. I love writing fanfiction and posting it up on AO3, absolutely. HOWEVER, the moment I write for money and then feel Obligated to do so, I will never write again. This is just how I am.

With money on the table, I feel pressure to perform to standards set out by the person paying me. I will set impossibly high standards for myself and feel like it isn't good enough.

Or I'll feel like I can't write the story I want to, since someone else is dictating the content (i.e. they want a certain pairing, certain characters to be featured). I also feel safe pushing my own comfort levels within my writing when I'm writing for free. (I have learned wayyyyy to much about BDSM practices, the Gestapo/SS... it's a wild ride, okay??)

Life is expensive as is/capitalism/monetizing everything = blegh! I want people to be able to access my writing without having to pay for it. I write because I enjoy it, and it's a piece of my soul I'm baring to the world. You shouldn't have to pay for that!

If you feel compelled to donate money to me/you feel l deserve to be compensated for my writing (or any other writer), may I suggest donating to AO3 instead? It's sites like that that allow me and other writers to share writing in the first place and they are completely run by volunteers! Also, my favourite currency is in the form of kudos and comments... THAT'S ALL I NEED!!!!

Even if you ever did pay me for my writing, somehow, I would just turn around and throw the money at AO3.

Oh and if you're a writer who thinks they deserve to be compensated for writing/have exclusive fics under a paywall/what have you... SO MUCH OF LIFE IS ALREADY MONETIZED... WE DON'T NEED FANFIC WRITING TO BE ONE OF THOSE THINGS!!!!

The rest of the thread is here.

tl;dr: Don’t monetize AO3, kids.  You won’t like what happens next.

[dissapointu]

Hello, I wanted to ask you a little drabble with all the arcane characters.

Like how they fell in love with reader ( like what captured their attention etc)

It would be pretty cool in my opinion.

Have a wonderful day\night.

Aaaugh, I made of made this a bit long-(really long, that was sarcasm) I'm splitting it into two portions

Jinx-

Jinx didn’t know what to make of you at first. You weren’t loud or flashy like the people she was used to dealing with. You weren’t trying to prove anything, and yet, there was something about you that screamed different.

She first noticed it when you didn’t flinch at one of her explosions—not the way most people did, anyway. The boom had rattled the room, shaking dust from the rafters, and yet, there you were, brushing soot from your shirt like it was just another Tuesday.

“Nice touch with the blue sparks,” you’d said, nodding at her latest contraption. “Adds flair.”

Flair? Most people would’ve called it destruction. Most people would’ve screamed or run. But you? You tilted your head, eyes bright, genuinely impressed, and for a moment, Jinx was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t just that you didn’t fear her; it was the way you saw her. You noticed the little things—the care she put into her work, the way she tinkered endlessly to perfect her machines. While others saw chaos, you saw art, and for someone like Jinx, that was everything.

The next time she saw you, it was intentional. She didn’t need to bring you a gadget she’d been working on—it wasn’t even finished—but she wanted to see how you’d react. Sure enough, you examined it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, pointing out details she hadn’t realized anyone else would notice.

“This is genius,” you murmured, tracing a finger along a carved design she’d barely remembered adding. “You really think through every detail, don’t you?”

Her heart did something weird then, like skipping a beat but more… explosive.

From there, it snowballed. You became her favorite person to show her creations to, the only one she trusted to see her work before it was ready. You never judged, never laughed when something misfired—just smiled and asked how you could help.

And Jinx? She realized she’d fallen for you one day when she caught herself trying to impress you. The realization hit her like a grenade: she didn’t just want you to like her inventions—she wanted you to like her.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said one night, leaning against her workbench, tools scattered around her. Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. “Most people don’t get me, but… you do.”

You’d just smiled, that easy, genuine smile that had hooked her from the start. “That’s because you’re worth getting.”

And just like that, Jinx knew there was no going back.

Vi –

Vi wasn’t looking for anyone. She didn’t have time for soft moments, not with everything she had on her plate. But then you came along, and she couldn’t help but notice how you carried yourself—steady, calm, unshakable.

The first time she really noticed you, it wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment. It was quiet. You were helping some kids in the Lanes patch up a rickety swing they used to pass the time. Nothing fancy, just you, a coil of rope, and that determined look in your eyes.

She hadn’t meant to stop and watch, but something about you drew her in. Maybe it was the way you didn’t hesitate to get your hands dirty or how the kids laughed around you, their faces lighting up despite everything the Lanes threw at them.

“You’re good with them,” she said after working up the nerve to approach you, trying to sound casual.

You glanced up at her, wiping sweat from your brow, and gave her a smile that hit her like a sucker punch. “Someone’s gotta be. They deserve better than this, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t just your words that stuck with her—it was the way you said them. Like you meant it. Like you actually believed in something better, even when the world gave you every reason not to.

From then on, Vi found herself noticing you everywhere. The way you stepped up when others hesitated. The way you didn’t back down, even when things got messy. You had this quiet strength about you, the kind that didn’t demand attention but earned it anyway.

She started finding excuses to stick around—helping with repairs, walking the kids home, sparring with you in the courtyard when the opportunity came up. And each time, she found herself drawn to you a little more.

“You’re somethin’ else,” she admitted one night, sitting beside you on a crumbling wall, the city’s broken skyline stretching out before you.

You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck, uncharacteristically shy. “Most people would’ve given up on this place a long time ago, but not you. You stick it out, no matter how hard it gets.”

You shrugged, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “Same could be said about you, Vi.”

That was the moment it hit her—like a punch she didn’t see coming. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t ignore.

She fell for you in pieces, each small moment stacking up until it all clicked. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It was the way you fit—like you were exactly what she didn’t know she was missing.

And when she finally worked up the courage to tell you, your answer came with that same steady smile that had captivated her from the start.

“Figured it out, huh?” you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away.

Yeah, she figured it out. And she wasn’t letting you go.

Sevika-

Sevika didn’t believe in love. In the Lanes, it wasn’t something people had the luxury of chasing. Survival came first, and attachments were just liabilities waiting to stab you in the back.

But you were… different.

The first time she noticed you, it wasn’t because you were trying to catch her attention. You were too busy holding your own, stepping into a dispute between two gang members over stolen supplies. She’d leaned back in the corner of the Last Drop, watching the chaos unfold, ready to step in if things got messy.

But then you surprised her.

You didn’t raise your voice or threaten anyone. Instead, you stood tall, calm as you defused the tension with a few sharp words and an unflinching glare. You had this presence, like you weren’t afraid of anyone in the room—not even her.

“Bold move,” Sevika had said when you approached the bar afterward, ordering a drink like you hadn’t just stared down two brutes twice your size.

You glanced at her, your lips quirking into a small smirk. “Someone’s gotta keep things from falling apart.”

That was the moment she started paying attention. You didn’t just survive in the Lanes—you thrived. You didn’t let the weight of the place crush you like it did everyone else. And more than that, you cared. Not in some naive, starry-eyed way, but in a way that made you fight tooth and nail for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves.

It pissed her off at first. The way you carried yourself like you weren’t afraid of the darkness around you. She thought it was reckless, stupid even. But the more she watched, the more she realized it wasn’t recklessness. It was conviction.

You weren’t scared of getting your hands dirty, but you never lost sight of what mattered to you. That’s what got under her skin, what kept her coming back to the same barstool night after night, just to see what you’d do next.

She started finding reasons to stick around. Sometimes it was to share a drink, other times to offer backup when things got rough. You never asked for her help, but you didn’t push her away either, and that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

One night, after a particularly close call with one of Silco’s rivals, you patched up a cut on her arm, your hands steady as you worked.

“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” she muttered, watching you through half-lidded eyes.

You chuckled, your touch gentle as you tied off the bandage. “Takes one to know one.”

It was such a simple moment, but it stayed with her. The way you looked at her—not like she was some feared enforcer, but like she was just… Sevika. It wasn’t something she was used to, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.

Over time, she realized she was looking for you in every crowd, waiting for the nights you’d sit beside her and trade sharp banter over a drink. She fell for you quietly, begrudgingly, like it snuck up on her before she could stop it.

And when she finally admitted it—to herself, to you—it wasn’t some grand confession. It was a gruff, almost reluctant, “You mean more to me than you should.”

Your response? That same infuriating, endearing smirk. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Sevika huffed a laugh, shaking her head, but the truth was, she didn’t mind. Because for once, letting someone in didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like strength.

Silco -

Silco had always been a man of control, ambition, and sharp edges. In the underbelly of Zaun, survival demanded nothing less. Trust was currency, and affection? A distraction. He had long since accepted that power was the only thing worth chasing.

But then you appeared.

You weren’t loud or showy, not one of those people clawing for his attention. No, you worked quietly, efficiently, in the background of the chaos he ruled. You were just another piece in his intricate machine at first—just another person serving a purpose.

What caught his attention first was your unyielding patience. Where others in the Lanes were frantic, desperate to prove their worth, you moved with a calm certainty, like you weren’t afraid of the storm around you. You fixed what was broken—tools, machines, even people—without asking for anything in return.

One night, you’d been tending to one of his injured men after a skirmish, your hands steady as you stitched him up in the dim light of the hideout. Silco watched from the shadows, curious. The man hissed in pain, and you responded with a soft laugh.

“Hold still, or I’ll sew you up crooked,” you teased, your tone warm but firm.

It wasn’t the words that struck him—it was the way you carried yourself. There was no fear in your voice, no need to prove yourself to anyone. You didn’t care about earning his favor or gaining power. You just… were.

For someone like Silco, who thrived on manipulation and control, it was unnerving. People were supposed to want something from him. But you? You treated him like a man, not a king.

It wasn’t long before he started seeking you out. At first, it was subtle. A lingering glance as he passed through the room, a quiet question about your work. You always answered him honestly, without flinching under his piercing gaze, and it left him unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite name.

One evening, after a particularly brutal day, he found you sitting by the docks, staring out at the toxic waters of Zaun. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of you, though he didn’t understand why.

“You should be careful out here,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. “And miss the chance to breathe? I think I’ll take my chances.”

It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with him. In a world that demanded constant vigilance, you allowed yourself to simply exist. It was a quiet defiance, one that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Over time, you became a constant presence in his life, slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls. It wasn’t grand gestures or impassioned declarations that made him fall for you. It was the quiet moments—the way you never cowered under his gaze, the way you challenged him without hostility, the way you saw him for more than his scars.

One night, as the two of you shared a rare moment of silence in his office, he finally allowed himself to admit what he’d been feeling.

“You’re dangerous,” he said, his voice soft, almost amused.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Dangerous? To you?”

He smirked, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve managed to do what no one else has.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’ve made me want something I didn’t think I needed.”

Your smile widened, warm and unguarded, and for once, Silco didn’t feel the need to look away.

In you, he found something unexpected: a quiet kind of strength, the kind that didn’t demand attention but commanded respect. And for a man who had spent his life fighting for control, letting himself fall for you felt like the ultimate rebellion.

Vander -

Vander wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. His life had been shaped by too much loss, too much responsibility. The people of the Lanes leaned on him, and he carried their weight with quiet strength. Love, to him, felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.

But then, there was you.

It wasn’t some grand moment that captured his attention—it was the small, steady things. The way you moved through the chaos of the Last Drop, keeping the peace in your own quiet way. The way you never demanded his time but somehow always knew when he needed someone to sit beside him in silence.

What struck him first was your kindness—not the soft, fragile kind, but the sort that had edges. You didn’t let people walk over you, but you never hesitated to offer a hand to someone in need. In a place like Zaun, where survival often demanded selfishness, you were a rarity.

He noticed it one night when a brawl broke out in the bar. Two rowdy patrons had nearly overturned a table, and before Vander could step in, you were already there. You didn’t raise your voice or throw a punch. Instead, you placed a firm hand on one of their shoulders, your calm, measured tone cutting through the tension.

“Save it for the street, boys. We don’t spill blood where we share drinks.”

To his surprise, they listened. Vander couldn’t help but chuckle as they slunk off, muttering apologies.

“Got a way with people,” he said later, handing you a drink as thanks.

You shrugged, offering a small smile. “Just trying to keep things from falling apart.”

Those words stayed with him. It was how you carried yourself—like you were always holding the pieces together, not because you had to, but because you chose to.

Over time, he started finding excuses to be near you. A quick conversation here, a shared drink there. You had a way of making him feel… lighter. Like he could let go of the weight he carried, even if just for a moment.

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after the bar had emptied, that he realized how deeply you’d settled into his heart. You were sitting on one of the tables, cleaning up a spill, humming a tune under your breath. The soft glow of the lanterns lit up your face, and for a moment, Vander just… watched.

“You’re staring,” you said, not looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caught me.”

You glanced at him then, your smile warm and teasing. “What’s on your mind, big guy?”

He hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure. But then, he decided to just say it—Vander was never one for dancing around the truth.

“You. The way you care about this place. The people. Me.” He exhaled, leaning against the bar. “Never thought I’d find someone like you in all this.”

Your eyes softened, and you set down the rag in your hands, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased gently. “Took you long enough to notice me.”

He laughed then, a deep, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. “Oh, I noticed. Took me a bit longer to admit it.”

And when you reached up, resting a hand against his face, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. In you, he found something he hadn’t realized he needed—a steady flame in the chaos of the Lanes.

Ekko -

Ekko didn’t believe in distractions. The Firelights needed him, the Lanes needed him. His days were spent fixing the mess left behind by Piltover’s greed and Silco’s reign. He had no time for anything else—least of all love.

But you? You didn’t give him much of a choice.

It wasn’t a single moment that caught his attention. It was a collection of them, like the pieces of a clock coming together. He first noticed the way you moved—quick and deliberate, like you belonged to the rhythm of the chaos around you. No hesitation, no wasted motion. Whether you were patching up one of the Firelights after a mission or organizing supplies in the hideout, you carried yourself with a quiet confidence that made it impossible for him not to watch.

What hooked him, though, was your laughter. The first time he heard it, he froze. It had been after a particularly rough raid. Everyone was tense, the weight of the day pressing down on their shoulders. And then you cracked some joke—stupid, honestly, but something about the way you delivered it had everyone laughing, including Ekko.

That was when he realized it: you didn’t just survive the Lanes. You thrived in them. You brought light into a place where most people only saw shadows.

It started small—an extra second spent talking to you, a lingering glance when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d catch himself gravitating toward you without even meaning to, drawn to the way you lit up a room with just your presence.

But it wasn’t until one night, long after the others had gone to sleep, that he truly understood how deep you’d gotten under his skin. You were sitting by the glow of a makeshift lantern, tinkering with some piece of tech you’d salvaged. The light cast shadows across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the focus in your eyes.

“Burning the midnight oil?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone’s gotta keep this place running.”

He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “You do too much, you know that?”

“Says the guy who can barely take a break,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.” For a moment, he just stood there, watching you work. The quiet stretched between you, comfortable and warm.

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly.

You paused, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. “Do what?”

“Care so much. About all this.” He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entire hideout, the Firelights, the Lanes.

Your gaze softened, and you set the piece of tech aside. “Because someone has to. And because… I believe in you, Ekko.”

The sincerity in your voice hit him like a punch to the gut. You believed in him. In a world that seemed determined to tear him down, you stood beside him, unwavering.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Guess you’re stuck with me anyway.”

That was the moment Ekko fell. Completely, irreversibly.

Jayce -

Jayce had always been drawn to brilliance. Invention, ambition, ingenuity—they were the cornerstones of what he admired in others. And yet, none of it had ever prepared him for you.

The first time he saw you, it wasn’t in a polished Piltover workshop or a grand council meeting. It was in a small, crowded market on the edge of the Undercity, where the scent of oil and metal clung to the air. You stood at a stall, bartering for scraps and materials like your life depended on it—because, as he’d later learn, it did.

What caught his attention wasn’t just your resourcefulness or the sharp wit you wielded against the vendor. It was the way your eyes lit up when you held a seemingly useless part in your hands, already envisioning the endless possibilities it could unlock.

He didn’t even mean to approach you. His curiosity had a mind of its own. “What are you going to do with that?”

You turned, a little startled, but you didn’t back down from his inquisitive gaze. Instead, you held up the twisted hunk of metal like it was a crown jewel. “Turn it into something brilliant. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. And Jayce, who had spent his life chasing impossible ideas, saw a kindred spirit in you.

From that moment, you became an enigma he couldn’t resist unraveling. Every conversation revealed new layers to your ingenuity, your resilience, your unshakable belief in making the impossible possible. And the more time he spent with you, the more he realized it wasn’t just your mind that captivated him—it was your heart.

You were unafraid to challenge him, to push him, to remind him that the world wasn’t just equations and theories but people and dreams. Your passion reignited something in him he hadn’t realized he’d lost: a love for the why, not just the how.

One evening, as the two of you sat side by side, tinkering with a device in his lab, he found himself watching you instead of the work. The way your hair caught the light, the quiet determination in your expression, the soft smile when something finally clicked into place.

“You’re staring,” you teased without looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—how do you make everything seem so effortless?”

You grinned, glancing at him with that spark he’d come to love. “It’s not effortless. I just don’t let the hard parts stop me.”

In that moment, he knew he was a goner.

Jayce Talis, the golden boy of Piltover, had fallen in love with you—not because of what you could build, but because of what you built in him: a renewed faith in the beauty of dreaming big, of chasing the spark no matter where it led.

And it apparently led to you.

Viktor-

Viktor didn’t notice you at first, not in the way others might have. He was too focused on his work, his mind consumed by blueprints and equations. But you… you were patient, always there in the background, asking questions no one else dared to ask, seeing things no one else cared to notice.

It was one of those late nights in the lab when you caught his attention. He was hunched over a schematic, frustration etched into every line of his face. You, seated quietly at the far end of the room, had been watching him—though you’d never admit it aloud.

“Did you eat today?” your voice broke through the silence.

Viktor didn’t even look up. “I’m fine,” he replied, a rote answer that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

You set down your work and crossed the room, standing just out of his peripheral vision. “Fine isn’t food, Viktor.”

When he finally looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made him pause. It wasn’t pity or condescension—two things he’d grown accustomed to. It was understanding, genuine and unyielding, as if you knew exactly what it felt like to lose yourself in something bigger.

That was the first moment he realized you were different.

It wasn’t the last.

You had a way of grounding him, of pulling him out of his own head without judgment. Your presence was quiet but powerful, a steady force that didn’t demand his attention but earned it nonetheless.

What truly captured him, though, was your mind. You didn’t just accept the world as it was; you questioned it, challenged it, sought to understand it. You weren’t afraid to debate him, to push back when you thought he was wrong, and yet you did so with a respect that made him listen.

He found himself looking forward to your late-night conversations, the way you’d linger in the lab long after everyone else had gone home. You’d ask about his work—not just the mechanics but the why behind it, the hopes and fears he buried beneath his relentless drive.

One evening, as you sketched out a rough design on a scrap of paper, Viktor caught himself smiling. Not at the drawing, though it was clever, but at you. The way you bit your lip in concentration, the furrow of your brow, the quiet hum of satisfaction when you got something just right.

“You are remarkable,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You glanced up, surprised. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with a wrench. “Nothing. Just… your ideas. They’re… innovative.”

But it wasn’t just your ideas. It was you—the way you saw the world, the way you saw him. Not as a man constrained by limitations but as someone capable of more.

You believed in him, not just in his work, and that was something Viktor hadn’t realized he craved until you offered it so freely.

And as the days turned into weeks, then months, he realized something else: He believed in you, too.

It wasn’t some grand epiphany or dramatic moment. It was in the quiet, shared glances, the lingering touches when you handed him a tool, the way his chest felt lighter when you were near. Somewhere in the midst of late nights and whispered dreams, Viktor had fallen in love.

Not just with your mind or your presence, but with the way you made him feel—seen, understood, whole.

And for a man who’d always fought against the odds, loving you felt like the greatest invention of all.

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[neon-sunsets]

okay. let’s talk about jayce’s monologue, since people are calling him ableist.

for context, not that it matters: I have a significant mobility disability and a progressive chronic illness which, even when managed, can kill me. I’m not in exactly the same boat as viktor since my disease isn’t terminal, but I’ve had very similar experiences to him. this shapes my perception of him and of this storyline.

this is the monologue:

You’ve always wanted to cure what you thought were weaknesses. Your leg. Your disease. But you were never broken, Viktor. There’s beauty in imperfections. They made you what you are. An inseparable piece of everything I admired about you.

first, it should be noted that “what you thought were weaknesses” is not the same thing as “things that are good.” jayce is not saying that viktor’s disease is or was a good thing. what he is saying is that he admired (loved) everything that viktor was, which included the things viktor thought made him a burden or a problem. remember also that jayce almost doomed the world because he couldn’t let viktor die; he would never imply that viktor dying was a good thing.

the next question, then, is whether viktor sees himself as a burden or not. I think it’s implied that he does — it’s certainly not unrealistic to think that viktor might have come to view himself, or at least his disease, as a burden and a flaw. disabled people often view ourselves that way either because of internalized ableism or because society constantly tells us that we’re burdens and that our bodies are abnormal and wrong. viktor displays behaviors that indicate internalized ableism, including hiding the fact that he’s coughing up blood from jayce the first few times it happens and generally refusing to be in the public eye in a way that is self-effacing and not just him being private. yes, he says in act 1 of season 1 that he believes in himself, but he does also call himself a cripple in a dismissive way in that same scene; also, he doesn’t have the disease at that point. arguably the entire scene where he runs despite clearly being in pain is an example of his internalized ableism, but that’s another post.

more evidence for viktor’s perception of himself being negative is that he clearly has a sense that he doesn’t deserve to be loved (specifically by jayce, but maybe also in general). we see this when he asks jayce why he’s still persisting in saving him. we see this with his generally self-effacing behavior. we see this with the fact that in all of season 1, the only person he allows to touch him is jayce, and that the only person he actively touches in the entire show is jayce. viktor is reserved and not good with his emotions, which is a huge part of his arc this season. all of these behaviors point to him having a negative self-perception.

I think it’s important to really consider how jayce perceives viktor and how viktor perceives himself. I don’t think this season handled everything perfectly, but I think they handled this very well. viktor has been written with a fullness and complexity that most disabled characters don’t ever get. him being morally grey doesn’t mean he’s “problematic” or “bad representation.” obviously I’m only one disabled person, but I really love jayce and viktor and I think their story is beautifully written.

[mattscoquette]

how do you think matt would react if he found his girl sh-ing? (u should make a one shot on this <3) would chris react the same as matt?

matt finding out his girl is sh

. detailed mentions of self harm and anxiety !! pls read with caution <3 this is also in no way romanticizing sh ! remember u are loved :)

you shakily pried open the back of your phone case, carefully removing the small blade you’d taken from your shower razor. standing over the sink as water poured from faucet, you slid up the sleeves of your sweater, an array of both fresh and healed scars adorning your skin. you felt tears prick your eyes as you began to slide the blade against your skin, slashing new cuts into your wrists.

as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop yourself from hurting yourself. it had become your way of coping with your anxiety, and your solution to every situation that arose. and matt, poor matt, was so observant in your change of behavior. the way you only wore long sleeves, how you seemed to panic whenever he held your hand. you two stopped having sex months ago. and you noticed how it affected your relationship. you noticed how everything that you did affected your relationship. and that only made you want to hurt yourself even more.

matt deserved a better girlfriend. or so you thought. in your head, you were ruining matt’s life. you were barely there anymore, feeling like you were a ghost watching your life from the outside. and you loved matt so much, so much that it hurt, and all you wanted was for him to be happy. but to you, if you weren’t happy, matt couldn’t be happy.

lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the mess of blood you were making in the sink, and matt knocking on the door softly. “baby are you good? i’m home with food.”

you cursed underneath your breath, hurriedly turning off the sink and holding a fist over your cuts, trying to stop the flow of blood. i’m okay was all you could unconvincingly rasp out.

“are you sure? can i come in?” matt called out, his voice as sweet and caring as ever. because why wouldn’t it be. you were matt’s entire world, the only thing that mattered to him was you.

“i’ll be right out, i’m okay.” you spoke, trying your best to stop your voice from shaking. you looked down at your cloth covered wrists, dark stains seeping through the sleeves where your hand was clamped around them.

but, matt knew you. he knew something was wrong, and he knew you weren’t okay. so, matt being matt, pushed his thumb against the lock, twisting it as it unlocked. slowly, he turned the doorknob, opening the bathroom door where he saw you standing inside, a panicked expression on your face as you held a hand over your wrists.

matt’s eyes scanned around the bathroom, his face falling as he realized what you were doing. the blade on the counter, the blood in the sink, the way you were drawing your arms into your body. and suddenly, the last few months made sense. "sweetheart.” he couldn’t even manage a whisper.

matt swiftly made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your body as he held you tight. you couldn’t stop the sobs that racked your body, crying hard into matt’s chest while he just cradled you. he kissed the side of your head repeatedly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulled you both down onto the tiled floor, letting you climb up into his lap.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffled, burying your face into his shoulder, “i’m sorry i’m so messy.”

matt pulled away, his expression as if you had just personally offended him. his ran a thumb across your tear stricken cheek, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “don’t be sorry, i’m not upset.”

he continued to comfort you, rocking you back and forth in his arms on the bathroom floor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you.” he mumbled into your hair, feeling his own eyes begin to well with tears. “no matter what.”

“always?”

“always.”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i kinda wanna start trying to write more angsty stuff like this, ty for this request ! can’t lie i lowk cried writing this but i feel like it lowk helped me in a way bc i used to struggle w this. anyway i hope u guys like <3 and if anyone needs someone to talk to im here !!

[bronzeyslcve]

take charge - lucy bronze

pairing: lucy bronze x female reader

theme: smut

warnings: smut, minors dni, fingering, strap-on use, oral sex, praise kink, gag use, orgasm control, submissive lucy, pet names, use of y/n

summary: lucy has always been the dominant one out of the two of you throughout your entire five year relationship. when leah tears her acl, Sarina gives you the armband for the World Cup. Something about you in the armband turns lucy on and suddenly, she wants you to take control in the bedroom…

notes: based on this request, thank you sm anon! whilst writing this, half of it didn’t save so i had to rewrite most of the match part so sorry if it’s really bad <3

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It was heartbreaking watching Leah tear her ACL, the three letters confirming to you and all of your England teammates that your captain would miss the World Cup. You had no idea who Sarina would give the armband to, you thought Millie would receive it, or even Lucy, she deserved it more than most in your definite non-biased opinion. But Sarina had other plans. You were announced as the captain for the World Cup. Naturally, you were honoured to not only represent your country but to know hopefully captain them to a World Cup win, it was a childhood dream come true and Lucy couldn’t have been prouder of you.

So far, you had lead the team through the group stages, having won all three matches and you couldn’t be happier. You had noticed a slight change in Lucy ever since your first game against Haiti, but you put it down to just tournament nerves. Not knowing what was really going through her head. Having no clue that seeing you lead all the girls on the pitch, wearing that armband and being much more commanding and even more confident then you normally are, has been doing things to her.

All this week, you had been preparing for the game against Nigeria. You weren’t stupid, you knew it was going to be tough. They’re physical. Way more physical than the Lionesses but you were all ready. Or that’s what you thought. You played in the left-wing back position, which allowed you to cover the back and push up a little, which you loved doing. You had a good link up going with Georgia but Nigeria were quick to break it, quick to have you marked down and so you could do nothing, not really, except for telling your girls what to do.

Rarely, anger was never an emotion you dealt with on the pitch. You never got angry, not really, the last time you had it was the champions league final back in 2020 for an unjust foul committed on you that should’ve been a penalty, but it wasn’t awarded. However, watching you get awarded a penalty in the 31st minute and then having it taken off of you in the 34th just really pissed you off. You thought it should’ve stood. But it didn’t. When you’re angry on the pitch, you get a touch more aggressive, more loud and much more pissed if things don’t go your way. And that’s exactly what starts to happen.

The last minutes of the first half are basically just filled with you shouting at the girls, telling them what to do, putting challenges in on the Nigerian players, but still being careful to not get carded for them. When you come off for half time, Lucy is the first one over to you, putting her arm around your waist, whilst you two walk back through the tunnel. All of the fans knew about your relationship, I mean the pair of you never made any effort to hide it, meaning you could be more open with some of your affections.

“That should’ve been a fucking penalty,” you huff, as you walk towards the changing rooms, Lucy’s arm never leaving its position of being wrapped around your waist.

“I know baby, I know. Don’t threat about it though, we’ll be okay, we have you, you’re playing exceptional as always,” Lucy reassured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, ignoring the feelings stirring inside of her from watching you get angry on the pitch. From wearing that armband. You have absolutely no clue how much you’re turning her on.

“Luce, I’ve hardly done anything,” you sigh softly as you make your way through the changing room and sit down at your cubby, which is conveniently next to your girlfriends.

“Yes you have. The passes that you have managed to make have been perfect, you’ve kept the left locked down and you’ve been commanding us really well.”

You smile softly at her and she presses a gentle peck to your lips before whispering against them lowly, “It’s very hot actually,” before she leaves to use the toilet to adjust herself.

Sarina gives her usual half time speech, telling you all on how to improve, then about ten minutes later you’re all back on the pitch. The knowledge that Lucy finds how you’re carrying yourself on the pitch hot, sends sparks flying through you. You weren’t thinking about that, not at all, but now, it’s in the back of your mind and you can’t help but want to impress her just a little more.

By the 83rd minute, most of the girls are tired. Nigeria’s physicality is just knackering the entire team. Sarina still hasn’t made any changes and it’s annoying you a little bit, your team are tired, substitutions need to be made. That’s why it doesn’t surprise you as much when frustrations get the better of Lauren James. Sure, her stamp on Alozie was completely unnecessary, but you understand why she did it. You’re frustrated too, however you have the maturity, which Lauren lacks and needs to work on, to time your tackles right, to not foul a player as said tackles you have committed have all been completely legal. Yes your frustrations did get the better of you in the 73rd minute leading to you getting a yellow card, but that was only for talking back to the ref, who you now had down as being a wanker, you didn’t like her. You knew the red card was coming to Lauren, a blind idiot would know, but that still doesn’t mean it didn’t hit the team hard. Being forced to drop to ten whilst you’re already struggling isn’t really an ideal situation.

The last eight minutes were utter hell for England. Scrappy, sloppy, whatever the commentators want to call it. You are extremely lucky to be going into extra time and not home. There were multiple shots from Nigeria that could’ve gone in but didn’t.

When the first fifteen minutes of extra time roll around after the short break, Nigeria’s tactics are slightly different. They try to test you, try to exploit the left side which they haven’t for the entire game. However you’re successful at keeping it locked down, not letting them get around you, which means they take back up their usual routine of going down the middle or the right.

In the 98th minute, a diagonal ball that’s just completely ignored by Millie could’ve easily been scored, it was a big chance for Nigeria. A huge one, it could’ve won them the game. But it didn’t. That still doesn’t mean that you didn’t have a few stern words with your vice captain. Millie understood and she was incredibly apologetic, knowing she fucked up, her words, not yours, she’s tired. All of the girls are, you couldn’t blame her that much, so you just remind her to stay alert and on her player, that’s all really.

You notice Nigeria decide to attack down the right, and Lucy isn’t doing all that well. She seems distracted by something. You’ve never shouted at Lucy on the pitch before, but you just have to, she has to lock that right side down, you can’t concede.

“Luce, c’mon snap out of it, stay on her!” you shout at your girlfriend and Lucy is quick to react. She improves her marking of Ajibade instantly and doesn’t let her past her, locking the right down just how you wanted. Yet again, you had no idea what you had just done to Lucy. The way you commanded her stirred something primal within her, but she was quick to snap out of it: remembering your earlier words, not wanting to disappoint you. It was a weird feeling for Lucy, but she was sure that if you asked her to do anything: she’d do it for you.

The first half of the extra time comes to an end and you have a little break, having a quick gel and then a word with the girls to just play their best and for now push through the pain and the tiredness for their county. For winning this game and for hopefully winning the World Champion title in a few weeks time.

The second half of extra time kicks off and it’s an improvement from the first, you have a second substitution now, so more fresh legs and Beth England is an excellent player.

In the back of your mind, you know that ever since Lauren’s red card you’ve had less possession and have not had a single shot. You pray to change that. You want one to end up in the back of that net, not really wanting to have to end up with going to penalties. But it seems like fate has other ideas. There was a couple of chances that England had in that last half, but unfortunately none could connect. So penalties it is.

A few minutes break is allocated for a breather to discuss who would take the penalties and in what order. It would be Georgia, then Beth, then Rachel, then you, then Chloe and then Alex for the first six, if all six are needed of course. Then the rest of the girls were also ordered, if more than five had to be taken. You had taken a few penalties in your time, all in shootouts, and you’d scored all of them. So you were pretty confident in yourself.

You stood next to Lucy at the end of the line, one arm wrapped around her waist as you watched Georgia set up to take her shot, hoping, praying it would go in. It didn’t, but you were still proud of the midfielder nevertheless she’d played a good game, and you had every faith in Mary in saving the one. Which she doesn’t even need to do because Oparanozie misses the target.

All of the England players scream when Beth slots it perfectly in the back of the next. 1-0 to England. When Alozie steps up to take Nigeria’s second, you hold your breath and when she skies it, you sigh in relief. Lucy quickly pressing a soft kiss to your head.

Rachel scores the next one, slamming it into the top left corner, however Ajibade also scores her one too. 2-1.

Usually when you take penalties, you’re not nervous. Not at all. But you can feel them tingling away around your body. You set the ball down and then close your eyes, quickly taking a moment to breathe, to block out all of the sound of the fans, and to focus on where you’re going to try and slot the ball. When you open your eyes, you focus on the opposite spot, to throw the keeper off, focusing on the bottom right.

You take in a breath and then strike the ball, to which it slots in beautifully in the top left hand corner. The keeper diving completely the wrong way. You run up and jump into Lucy’s arms, her pressing a soft kiss to your lips, which makes fans in the stands go wild. That’ll be in TikTok edits later, but you don’t care. After you, Ucheibe scores hers for Nigeria and then Chloe’s up.

You squeeze Lucy’s hand, if this goes in you’ve done it. You’re through to the World Cup quarter finals. And of course, Chloe Kelly slots it in and England are through. After an incredibly challenging, tiring game, you’d done it. England through to the next round, thank fuck. Nigeria put up a good fight, it was crystal clear they wanted it just as much as you did, the game truly could’ve gone either way.

After consolidating the Nigerian team, you get into the team huddle, standing in between Sarina and then Lucy on your other side, listening to the gaffer give her little post match speech before you have to give yours, a little bit of that aggressive, more dominant edge still clinging to your voice. As Lucy listens to you, she feels that urge cross her body again, the one that’s willing to do whatever you say. To be your good girl. It’s a weird feeling for her. Lucy has never, ever felt this way before. She’s not submissive. She never has been. But seeing you, like this, all commanding, angry and dominant it’s doing things to her and suddenly she craves for you to take charge of her, like you’ve done on the pitch.

After you’ve said what you’ve needed to, you look over at your girlfriend and notice that tiny glint in her eye which means she’s turned on, that makes you raise an eyebrow slightly, wondering how and why. But you just shrug it off, listening to what some of the other girls have to say about the game whilst Lucy’s eyes are fixed on the captains band sitting on your left arm.

A few hours later, you finally manage to get away from all of the girls, Lucy saying the pair of you need an early night. You make it up to your room, and then she’s on you, her lips immediately seeking out yours, kissing you passionately, but not rough like she normally is.

“Put your kit back on, especially the armband,” she breathes against your lips, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“You want me to put my dirty, sweaty kit back on? Seriously?” you ask, your tone incredulous, confused beyond belief.

“Mhm, please Y/n, put it on,” she begs, her eyes pleading with yours.

You look at her gone out. What the bloody hell is happening? Lucy had never ever begged you to do anything (unless it’s get her cake) in the entirety of your five year relationship. It takes you a few seconds to deliberate the idea in your head but with a soft sigh you nod and grab your bag that you brought up here earlier, just after the game before the dinner you’ve just had, to get it out of the way.

“Do I have to put my pads back on?” you question as you strip from the England gear you currently had on, getting back into your football kit from the match earlier.

“It’s up to you Y/n, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lucy states softly as she watches you intently, her eyes glued to the armband that’s now sat back on your left bicep and she swears she feels her knees going weak.

You nod and decide against putting them back on, not actually needing them for whatever you’re about to do. The answer she gives you is not “very Lucy”, usually she would’ve told you exactly what she wants. For extra measure, you put your hair back up into the style of a rather neat bun, much neater than the ones Lucy does in her hair are. You look at yourself in the mirror quickly before glancing back at the brunette, something about seeing yourself in the armband has made that sense of pride and dominance return, exactly what Lucy wanted.

“This what you wanted hm Luce? Want to get me in my kit so I could take charge?” you had finally caught on to what she wanted, it just all clicked and fucking hell, taking charge in the bedroom, of Lucy is an incredibly hot thought.

“Please y/n, I’ll be a good girl, I promise, I need you,” she whines, her usual dominance having completely melted away. It’s almost like another woman is stood in front of you.

“Dirty girl, getting turned on by seeing me get all angry and aggressive on the pitch. I should just leave you here, wanting and not getting anything,” you hum before gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, a direct contrast to your words.

“No, please, don’t, I need you baby, I’m so desperate, please.”

God she sounds so so so pretty when she whines, when she begs. You’ve never heard it before, and you want to hear more of it, you’ll make sure Lucy does her fair share of begging before she gets anything from you.

“You sound so pretty when you beg Luce, what you desperate for hm? What do you want me to do?” you ask, fully aware that you’re being a tease, but you know she’ll do what you want.

“I want you to fuck me, please Y/n.”

A small groan slips past your lips at her admission, normally you’re the ones saying those words, begging her to have her way with you. Now it’s the other way around and you love it and of course, you’ll give her exactly what she wants, eventually.

Your lips find hers, kissing her rather hungrily before you start to trail your kisses down the column of her throat, occasionally dragging your teeth over her skin, making her shiver.

“Fuck baby, please stop teasing,” Lucy pleads, her head tilted back slightly, allowing you to have slightly better access to her neck.

“And why should I do that hm?” you question before connecting your lips again, the kiss all teeth and tongue, with you in full control. Your lips stay intact as you reach the edge of the bed, only breaking apart for a few seconds to push her down gently, before kissing her once more.

Lucy whimpers into the kiss, wanting so much more than she’s currently getting, needing you to push her over the edge and give her the orgasm she so desperately craves, that she so desperately needs.

Momentarily, you break the kiss to take off her top, and then her sports bra, carelessly throwing them over your shoulder. You ignore her boobs, for now, going back to roughly making out with her. She lets out another little whimper into your mouth a few seconds later, needing more.

“Is there something wrong Lucia?” you hum teasingly, using her full name which you know has an effect on her, knowing full damn well what she wants.

“I need more Y/n,” she mewls, now having taken to squeezing her thighs together to get a touch a friction.

When you see what she’s doing, you click your tongue in disapproval before then gently pull her legs apart, slotting yourself in between them.

“Oh really? Is what I’m doing not enough for you?”

“N-no, please, give me more.”

Puppy eyes was the last thing you’d expect to see from Lucy, but god they do look adorable. And you find yourself giving in, very slightly to what she wants. Your mouth finds her right boob, gently kissing over it before flickering your tongue over her nipple. After a few little flicks, you tug it between your teeth, then run your tongue over it, soothing the small amount of pain. Your hand finds her left one, kneading the flesh delicately ahead of your fingers twisting and lightly pulling at that nipple, whilst the other one gets taken properly into your mouth for you to suck on.

A mix between a moan and a whimper leaves your girlfriend’s throat and it sounds beautiful, like music to your ears. You keep up with what you’re doing for a while before pulling away and kissing down her chest, littering it with love bites, then you move onto trailing your tongue down her stomach to the waistband of her joggers. Quickly, you get them off of her, leaving her in just her boxers, a very noticeable dark wet patch on the front of the dark cotton.

“Fuck look at you, I’ve hardly touched you and you’re soaked. God if I’d have known if me being captain would make you this needy, I would’ve begged Sarina to have been captain for the Euros too.”

That makes Lucy whine again and squirm a little, wiggling her hips, trying to get you right where she needs you.

“Stop teasing me, please baby,” she whimpers once more, growing stupidly needy.

At first, her whines and her begging you sounded perfect, you loved them, but now, they are getting on your nerves very slightly, just like yours must do to her. Now you realise why she doesn’t like it when you’re whiny and are begging her insistently. Not when you have a plan in place of what you’re doing and she’s just being so goddamn impatient.

“No, stop fucking begging,” you practically growl, but she doesn’t listen, whining a little more and bucking her hips up to almost remind you where you’re so desperately needed.

“Please baby, I need you, it aches, fuck me, please.”

You raise your eyebrows at her so blatantly ignoring you, your hand finds your captains band on your arm and you tug it down before forcing it into Lucy’s mouth.

“There. Now we’re all nice and quiet hm?”

Lucy moans around the gag of your armband and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, you just hope that you get to hear it again. Sure enough, when your mouth finds her inner thighs after pulling down her boxers, that same noise spills from her throat.

A small smirk tugs onto your lips as you kiss, lick, nip and suck at Lucy’s inner thighs, not darling to inch just that little higher and run your tongue through her soaked folds. Admittedly, you were savouring every second of this, you’d never ever taken her like this. She’s always been sat on your face and there was no time to tease her, so you’d never properly gone down on Lucy.

When you finally do decide to give her a little of what she needs, languidly swiping your tongue over her drenched slit, avoiding her clit like the plague, the prettiest little sound slips around the gag of your armband, something like a moan mixed with a small cry.

You go back to then sucking at her inner thighs, just wanting to tease her a touch more before you really give her what she wants. Lucy’s frustrated, but she doesn’t vocalise it, not whimpering around the gag, nor does she show it, her hips remain planted on the bed, hands screwed up in the duvet: not daring to touch you without your permission. For her your dominance was exhilarating, your armband in her mouth silencing her was what she thought was the hottest thing ever and the sheer confidence you have in taking charge does in fact have her incredibly needy; evidenced in just how soaking wet she is.

After a few seconds, when you see no physical reaction from Lucy to your teasing, you smile and lean up to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Such a good girl for me hm? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want,” you coo before dipping your head back down towards her dripping sex.

Those two words, “good girl” have Lucy literally melting in a puddle for you. Involuntarily, her pussy clenches around nothing, clit throbs with need and the moan she lets out - which is slightly muffled - is perfect.

At the revelation that Lucy has a bit of a praise kink going on, you smirk, you’re going to use that to your advantage. As your tongue once again swipes over her slit, your eyes remain locked onto your girlfriends, watching how within seconds of your ministrations, they roll into the back of her head.

“My good girl,” you husk against her cunt before your lips find her clit, sucking just how she likes as one of your fingers teases around her entrance, not dipping inside just yet.

The possession mixed with the praise has Lucy letting out another moan around her gag and as soon as your lips finally find her clit, a muffled cry tumbles from her lips.

You continue with sucking her clit, pushing just one finger inside of her, groaning into her pussy as you feel just how tight she is, how warm she is. When she’s in charge, Lucy rarely lets you finger her, she always forces you to use your mouth and nothing else, it’s because she’s never been much of a receiver. Always giving. But when she’s does want something, the quickest way to get her off is to eat her out, so she’d make you do just that: so she could get back to fucking you quicker.

Slowly, you pump your finger in and out of her, a second one soon joining the first, feeling her walls stretch a little to accommodate it. You can already feel Lucy getting closer to the edge, so you slow down even more. You want to draw this out. You want to prep her to take the strap.

“Doing so well for me sweetheart, think you can take a third for me?” you ask her softly, pulling your mouth away from her clit for just a few seconds, still fucking her with your fingers.

Eagerly, Lucy nods. She wants to take it, to be your good girl, she knows she can take them too. You smile at her and then once again dip your head back down. Your tongue swirls over her clit gently, before you go back to sucking the sensitive nub.

A third finger slowly joins the second two, and your curl up all three of them, causing the right back to let out another muffled cry around the gag. The stretch for her is perfect, the feeling of taking three of your fingers is sensational, it feels like heaven. With each thrust of your fingers, Lucy can feel them hitting her g-spot, which makes her face contort with pleasure.

You speed up your fingers and your sucking, determined to push her over the edge, wanting to make her cum hard. Lucy’s knuckles turn white with how hard she’s now clenching the duvet, her back arching slightly, eyes now squeezed shut, stars dancing behind her eyelids. With what sounds to be like a moan of your name around your armband, she comes undone, harder than she ever has done. Just like you wanted.

Your movements slow, gently rocking your fingers inside of her, so she can ride out her orgasm. You press a gentle kiss to her clit before pulling your mouth of her, so you can murmur gentle reassurances to her as she comes back down from her high.

“You did so good for me sweetheart, such a good girl,” you state softly whilst gently easing your fingers out of her, which you clean by sucking on them.

The sight of you sucking and moaning around your fingers, coated in her cum, has Lucy getting worked back up again, which you obviously notice.

“You need more hm?” you tease as you ease your armband out of her mouth, pulling it back on to your left arm.

“Please, w..want you to use the strap,” she admits breathlessly, her voice slightly hoarse from your armband being in her mouth for so long, her eyes watching as you put it back where it belongs: slightly wet from her mouth.

“Hmm, do you think you deserve it?”

Lucy simply nods as she watches you pull down your shorts, the underwear you’re wearing are very damp, a clear sign of your own arousal.

“Me too, you’ve been my good girl after all,” you hum, pressing your lips to hers, giving her a soft peck.

When you’re at home, the strap usually resides in the bedside table, and Lucy always wears it. When you’re on camp, you have it in a bag that sits in the wardrobe with all of your other toys. You give Lucy a few more pecks, before getting off the bed and walking over to the wardrobe. The doors are slightly ajar on it as you must’ve forgotten to close it after grabbing your kit bag from it earlier.

You find the bag which is sat in the back of the cupboard and pull it forward, undoing the zipper on it. There’s not many toys in there, you have way more at home, but neither you nor Lucy were going to weigh your suitcases down when you flew out here, to Australia, with sex toys.

The harness gets pulled out of the bag and then so does a seven inch sleek black dildo that you’ll clip into the front of it. You make your way back over to the bed, the two items in hand and then nestle yourself in between Lucy’s spread legs.

You set the things down onto the mattress and then remove your shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room, leaving you in just your sports bra and underwear.

From the countless times of watching Lucy put the strap on, you know exactly what you’re doing. Your underwear come off and then you attach the harness to your hips. The brunettes eyes beneath you are fixated on your own soaked cunt, which you’re not even thinking about, your full focus is on giving your girl exactly what she needs.

“See something you like sweetheart?” you taunt whilst clipping the dildo into the slot at the front.

“Mhm, you’re so beautiful Y/n. Can you take your bra off, please?” she asks softly, her hand coming to paw at the material gently.

You smile and gently take her hand, kissing her knuckles before letting it go and removing the final item of clothing, which also makes Lucy smile.

“That what you wanted Luce?”

“Yes, y..you look perfect, I love you,”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

You gently kiss her forehead, then her cheek, the tip of her nose and then her lips. You kiss her for a few seconds, it’s gentle, unlike your earlier, more rougher, demanding ones.

After those few seconds, you pull away and then adjust your positioning, running the head of the dildo through her folds, which causes her to gasp.

“Fuck baby, please, n-need you,” she whimpers as you line the tip up with her entrance.

“Shh sweetheart, I know, you’re being so good for me,” you croon before you slowly push the strap into her, your eyes fixated on her pussy swallowing it, the sight getting engraved into the back of your mind.

In all honesty, you thought Lucy had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes almost closed, lips parted, one hand gripping the sheets, the other now gripping onto one of yours, her hair sprawled out against the pillows, her face contorted in sheer pleasure, her abs slightly tensed, the sounds escaping her and the way her pussy looks swallowing your goddamn strap. This was something you were going to remember for a long, long time.

“Shit Luce, you’re so tight, doing so well for me,” you grunt as you start to slowly thrust in and out of her, your eyes moving up to her face, to watch her reaction to your movements.

The praise has her letting out a small whimper, which turns into a loud moan as you start move. Her hand that’s in yours grips it a little tighter, for her it feels weird, she feels so full, stretched so beautifully, she could definitely get used to the feeling.

“F..fuck, feels so good Y/n. Harder, please,” she begs softly and it’s impossible to not give her what she wants, after all she has been good for you.

You increase the force of your thrusts, little grunts occasionally tumbling from your lips, like the ones that you make when lifting in the gym and Lucy fucking loves it. She loves hearing the little noises you’re making, knowing you’re enjoying it just as much as she is.

“Taking me so well, my good fucking girl.”

Lucy’s eyes roll into the back of her head, the praise making everything so much better for her, she can feel herself getting closer, her small moans getting louder, her walls gripping your strap tighter.

“Baby I’m close, p..please don’t stop,” Lucy pleads, her legs shaking slightly from the force off the orgasm that’s she’s so close to letting go of.

“Not yet sweetheart, hold it for me,” you demand softly whilst pushing your strap deeper into her, your hips snapping slightly faster. Selfishly, you don’t want her to cum yet, for it to all be over. You don’t know if you’ll ever get to experience this again, to watch Lucy take your strap, to be the one on top, the one in charge. So you just want to draw this out for as long as possible and you know Lucy will listen to you.

Lucy doesn’t complain, she just simply nods, opening her eyes properly to look at you. To her you look perfect. Your eyes are completely darkened with lust, watching her, your hairs up in that damn bun, some of the strands coming loose and sticking to your forehead and your captains armband is sat snug around your left bicep: you look like heaven to her.

“Look at you, look so fucking pretty taking my cock,” you practically growl, your eyes now back to watching her pussy take the toy as you pound into her faster, which makes her moans even louder.

“Y/n, please c..can’t hold it any longer,” she whines, her hand tightening in yours to ground herself as she knows her orgasm is going to be intense. She can feel it.

“Fuck, cum for me sweetheart, cum all over my cock.”

With a sudden cry, Lucy comes undone, her legs shaking slightly from its intensity, her eyes now rolled back, her back arched a little and her face contorted up in sheer bliss. You don’t know where to look, her face, her cunt, at the way her abs tense. You keep your eyes on her face, watching how it twists with pleasure, your hips slow down, still gently rocking the toy in and out of her, allowing her to ride out her high.

“That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl,” you hum, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before ever so gently easing the toy out of her sensitive pussy, revelling in the way it grips your strap harder, as if it doesn’t want you to leave.

Once the toy is out, you quickly undo the harness and then toss it off, throwing it onto the floor. You then lay down next to your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her gently, allowing her to cuddle into you, whilst you pressed gentle kisses all over her face.

“T..that was incredible,” Lucy managed to exclaim a few minutes later after coming down from the most incredible high she’d ever experienced.

“It was, my god you looked so beautiful Luce, who knew seeing me be captain could get you so worked up,” you couldn’t help but tease, watching as she responds by playfully rolling her eyes.

“Hm, I don’t know what can over me, it was just like hot, watching you take charge of everyone on the pitch y’know?”

“Mhm, I think I’ll beg Sarina to let me be captain forever now if that happens every time after we have a game.”

Lucy swats your shoulder playfully, her eyes watching as you pull off the armband and toss it onto the nightstand.

“No, I couldn’t focus on the game at points because all I was focused on was you baby,” she points out with a small smile, her lips gently pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh really?” you ask, rhetorically, as you think back to the game earlier that day which feels like it was years ago. “That actually makes a lot of sense, I knew something else was going on earlier, it has been the entire tournament,”

“Yep, ever since the Haiti game. I’ve been wanting you to take charge for a little while now,”

“Well I definitely want to do it again,” you suggest with a little smirk crossing your lips, making her chuckle.

“Ditto baby.”

With that, it didn’t take the pair of you that long to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, your bodies exhausted from the match you played in earlier and then the incredible sex you’d just had. As you slept, there was one thing you both knew for certain: you’d been taking charge much more often.

[puckinghischier]

What do I have to do to get some filthy Nico thoughts this morning? Xoxo

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.

“good news, neeks,” is all you managed to get out before he was stomping towards you, backing you against the floor-to-ceiling shelving of the closet. a few shoes dropped off the shelf at the force of his actions, but that was the least of your worries right now. you could fix them in the morning, considering the two of you never managed to leave the space the whole night, waking up on the carpeted floor to his soft snores, one of his suit jackets draped over your naked body as a makeshift blanket.

[aiambia]

Okay hear me out: the answer is honesty.

Lucanis claims to be bad at romance and flirting but then tends to be rather charming in his romance scenes.

Why is that?

I don’t think he’s flirting on purpose and just thinks he’s bad at it. I think he’s just being honest and stumbles into being suave and charming by accident. Yes, some of his lines sound very flirty, but I think taking them at face value, as Lucanis just saying what’s on his mind rather than making an attempt to flirt, makes his romance feel much more genuine.

There’s a moment in his final romance scene (that I talk about here) that solidifies this idea of honesty for me: Rook can set Lucanis up for an easy flirty sex joke when they say:

“Stay up? All night? However shall we pass the time?”

But instead of making the joke or being flirty about it, Lucanis says:

“Would you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort.”

It’s an incredibly vulnerable moment packed into a single line of dialogue. It reaffirms Lucanis’s earlier desire to spend time with Rook now that they’re here, now that they’re back. It’s also an admission of how vulnerable he feels. He’s an assassin facing the hardest contract he will ever have to complete, knowing that if he fails to (help) kill Elger’nan, then the world ends. Under all of that pressure, the one thing that he wants as a stress reliever and to calm him, ground him, is not sex or romance or any sort of grand display. All he wants is to spend time with Rook and listen to their voice.

So then, taking what we’ve learned from his last romance scene and retroactively applying it to his earlier romance scenes, you can feel how genuine and vulnerable Lucanis is when you just take him at face value. Of course he doesn’t get why Rook likes him—he’s just being himself and doesn’t think he is or has done anything special to deserve their affection.

Now compare the idea of an honest and vulnerable Lucanis to the one time he actually does try to be flirty:

He pins Rook against the wall and he’s talking all suave, but then he panics and can’t commit to a kiss. He’s certainly charming, but trying to be so alluring puts him waaaayyy out of his element. It freaks him out (in combination with his self-doubt and issues he has yet to work out with Spite at that point), and he can’t continue. And then we never see him attempt to be flirty again.

When you lock in his romance, Lucanis implies that the dessert is a form of apology. He’s doing something special, not to flirt or charm, but to apologize and make up for everything he’s put Rook through. He says that the dessert “[is] nothing. Or not enough.” He can’t figure out any other way to express his gratitude and appreciation for all that Rook has done for him, except to cook something that they might enjoy.

During a Lucanis and Neve banter, she teases him saying that “Rook is good for you” and (if you get the banter while you’re not at the lighthouse) Lucanis doesn’t take the opportunity to flirt with Rook. He just says that Neve is right.

And then at the post-dealing with Illario cafe date, the most romantic thing he says in the entire scene is him saying that he never expected to be there with Rook, “…but here we are.”

None of this is flirting, and yet when he talks, it’s still charming. Why? Because honesty is charming. It’s vulnerable and the fact that Lucanis repeatedly trusts Rook enough to be vulnerable with them is why he comes across as alluring.

It all culminates to a rather impactful “I love you” because he’s been so honest and genuine throughout the rest of the game. He says it and you know he means it. You can see the devotion in his eyes. There is no teasing or coyness because he doesn’t know how to do that (in a romantic sense).

Lucanis himself, in all of his honesty, genuine care for Rook, and appreciation for all that Rook has done is what makes him charming. He is a violently swinging pendulum of awkward and rizz god because he’s just saying what’s on his mind. Sometimes that honesty is going to come out sounding awkward as hell and sometimes he’s going to sound like he’s jumped out of a romance novel.

Lucanis doesn’t present himself to Rook as anything other than who he is, even when he tries to hide and protect Rook (and the team) from Spite. It makes his romance so genuine. You’re not falling for flirty and suave seduction from a professional assassin. You’re falling in love with a guy who expresses his feelings through food and tells Rook the truth because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Lucanis is a violently swinging pendulum of awkward and literal rizz god. How is he so bad but the coffee date cute af, and that scene in the pantry soooo goooood!?!?!

How does his confession never involve actually saying anything or physical intimacy of any kind and just him making a dessert (before you come for me, yes, I know most of his conversations are layered with romantic subtext), then later says he loves you with his whole chest?

Why does he consistently fumble when talking about romance or giving advice when with companions, but will pull mad suave lines on Rook?

This man has no idea why you like him but will turn around and say the cutest shit and demand to snuggle.

Sir... SIR...SIIIIIRRRRR!!!!!!

Listen here, babygirl. I WILL marry you. Don't try me.

[ego13]

LET ME IN YOUR OCEAN – YU JIMIN

now playing : chase atlantic - swim

SYNOPSIS : your mafia girl loves it too much when you bring her lunch to work (in fact, she doesn’t mind fucking you on her desk either.)

warnings : mafia!jimin, lesbian sex, service top!jimin, praise kink, hickeys, fingering sex in public places, pet names (princess, good girl, kitty).

pairing : yu jimin x fem!reader

you? oh, her favourite baby-girl, damn, jimin loves her girl too much, she loves to pamper you incredibly, because if this comes up in conversation, then yu does not hesitate to spend several million a day on her princess. expensive prada dresses, diamond necklaces and rings are what you literally swim in, bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners and then night walks in a black porsche with jimin - your daily routine, her hand on your thigh as you both silently drive through Seoul at night listening to your favorite playlist, during such moments it always seemed to you that there were only you two left in the world, and no one else

and if her girl wants it, jimin will buy the whole world for her, as long as it’s really just the two of you.

when you first saw her in the casino, you would never have thought that a cold-blooded member of the mafia could be such a gentle romantic, whose words always made your knees weak. one of the nicest things was that she was so close to you, she didn’t allow anyone to see her as tender except her princess, because you were the only one who truly deserved it. and the only downside of all this was the fact that she was often busy, although in a very interesting way she always made up for her guilt to you. a romantic dinner, another necklace and wonderful sex right against the wall in the hallway of your mansion is probably the best way for her to made it up.

waking up after another such evening, you realized that jimin was not next to him in bed, which made you slightly upset, after all, your desire to wake up in her arms, spending the whole morning sleepily hugging, alas, was cut short. you stretched, rubbing your eyes sleepily, reaching over to the bedside table and taking your phone off the charger, having unblocked it, the first thing you did was go into chat with yu, realizing that she didn’t even write about where and why it would be so early in the morning.

you : jiminnie? no good mornings? :(

you : i hope that you really have something important, because depriving me of morning hugs and breakfast in bed is a crime

just as you were about to get out of bed, several notifications came to your phone, and seeing the messages from yu, your face broke into a sleepy smile.

jim💘 : so sorry, princess, had to leave early, important meeting.

jim💘 : you know that i love you, princess?

jim💘 : i would never leave my precious girl without cuddles and kisses without reason.

jim💘 : i’ll be home in the evening, afterwards, expensive champagne and a delicious dinner, perhaps even a continuation in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, if I can’t restrain myself. i love u.

after reading the messages, you were mentally preparing for the upcoming evening, fuck, she knew exactly all your weak points, and knew where to hit so that you wouldn’t get angry. getting out of bed, you stretched again along the way, going into the kitchen, wanting to drink a glass of water, you noticed that you forgot to take lunch with you, which you carefully make every evening. a small pink lunchbox with hello kitty and a small love note is what jimin put in her black leather bag, and it made her heart beat faster every time.

you were a little upset, but you could put up with it, considering how flighty jimin can be sometimes, so you once again got excited about the idea of ​​going to her office to give lunch for her forgetful girlfriend. quickly getting dressed, you called the personal driver whom yu hired with the words 'my princess will not walk several kilometers on the asphalt every time with her beautiful legs so give me the most skilled driver'. the road was quite fast, and upon entering the large building, one of the bodyguards let you inside with a warm smile, personally escorting you to jimin's office.

knocking on the door several times, you opened it, seeing how she carefully rummages through documents in her damn sexy glasses, the way she looked made you turn into a waterfall every time you saw her. finally looking up from the papers, she smiled brightly, seeing her beloved girl.

"princess," getting up from the table, she took off her glasses and put them aside, she came closer to you, seeing a pink lunch box in your hands, "damn, I'm too forgetful and forgot my girl's lunch..." she awkwardly scratched the back of her head, taking it from your hands, placing it on the table, returning her gaze to you as her hands found their way to your hips, "you didn't have to drive halfway across town to see me, sweetheart, but I really fucking appreciate it, kitty..."

her lips carefully approached hers as your noses touched each other, finally pulling you into a slow and loving kiss, deepening the kiss, yu buried her head in the hair at the back of her head with one hand, and touched tour waist with the other hand. you hummed right into the kiss as she picked you up, moving her hands to her hips, and sat her on the table, settling between your legs. having stopped tormenting your lips, she lowered herself to your neck, while her free hand lifted your skirt, getting under your underwear, jimin began to slowly stimulate your clit, making circular movements, carefully watching your expression, searching for any hint of discomfort, “good girl... already so wet for me?"

your body kept shaking, and the thighs tried to close, but yu was standing between them, and did not allow this to happen. your hands fell on her shoulders, you pulled her closer, so close that ypu pressed herself against her, resting your head on her shoulder, her free hand nuzzled your thigh until her fingers finally slid inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine that was like honey to her ears, "just like that, you're doing so well, kitty, it feels like you were created for me to be inside you..."

yu's lips kissed your skin from your neck down, reaching the collarbones and leaving several purple marks there, again fell to her beloved neck, without ceasing to work with her fingers and feeling how your body began to tremble.

she felt with her fingers how the walls tightened around her fingers, enveloping and sucking, and in the next second a languid cry flew from your lips, which made her instinctively squeeze your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall off the table, on the contrary, helping you sit more comfortably, kissing your neck soothingly, enjoying the sight of the purple marks on your milky skin, "everything is fine, princess, my good girl..."

finally moving away from your neck, her hand combed the fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling, she liked seeing you like this too much, all excited, trembling from orgasm, while your hair stuck to your forehead and barely visible drops of sweat flowed from your temple.

"you know, after such a “lunch”, I’m no longer as hungry as before your arrival, you can come to me more often, I’ll be all for it."

[iichfilwypj]

loved | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of ares! reader ღ warnings: hurt/comfort! (for the ones that are so so angry) ღ wc: 720 this is clearly about me guys

“Percy, you don’t understand!” 

Her shouts shattered the silence of the forest; the birds seemed to have fled the moment they arrived, and the forest nymphs hid within their trees, unwilling to get involved.

“You’re right!” His voice was edged with frustration and anger as he followed her, but instead of looking threatening, he looked almost pitiable. "I don’t!"

There was a raw, painful gleam in his eyes, one she chose to ignore -although it proved her point.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Tell me what is wrong, please.” He begged. “I love you.”

No. 

Not those words. 

They were precisely the ones she didn’t want to hear. 

The weight they pressed onto her chest was overwhelming, and she didn’t think she could bear it any longer. 

He was the sweetest and kindest boy in camp, effortlessly funny and charming with everyone –how could someone like him love someone like her?

“That’s the thing.” Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, crescent-shaped marks forming in her palms. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stopped to turn toward him. “You can’t love me!” 

And he flinched. He fucking flinched at her.

But she didn’t care.

“I’m mean! I’m mean, and violent, and aggressive. I’m insecure, quiet, narcissistic. I have anger issues, stupids outbursts, I curse all the fucking the time! I’m not-” She took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger boiling inside her.

She was unlovable.

“Percy, I can’t make you happy. I don’t know how you expect this-” She gestured toward the space between them, which seemed to close with each tentative step he took. “-to work, I am not good for y-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Now it was her turn to flinch as he stepped closer, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. 

He was staring into her eyes as if he could see right through her, peeling back her defenses to uncover the truth she kept hidden –something she sensed he had been doing for far too long. 

“Don’t tell me what’s good for me or not.”

She could only stay silent.

What else could she do with that sight in front of her? A sight that wasn’t made for her, that felt so foreign for her.  

Those green eyes looked at her with a love she was sure she didn’t deserve, and those hands brushed against her skin as if they could see something good within her that she had buried.

“I know you, and I know how you feel. Like you don’t deserve the good things that happen to you, like you’re not good enough, like you’re a burden in everyone else’s life." One of his hands moved to cup her cheek. "Like you are a bad person.” 

She almost laughed; well, he was really laying bare her entire life with his words. 

“I don’t know who made you think all of that, but please, I’m begging you, don’t believe them.”

“That's the thing,” Percy leaned closer to her to show he was paying attention, but it was almost impossible to get any closer. “No one said anything; I just know it.”

As she closed her eyes, he observed her. Before him stood his favorite person in the world, unraveling before his eyes.

And he couldn’t stand to see it happen.

“You are the purest person in the whole world. From the first moment I saw you, I was wrapped around your finger. My mother is tired of hearing your name, my room is fed up with me sprawled out, holding your photo, and my mind is consumed by thoughts of you –there is no space for anything else. ” 

The words flowed from his lips as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and the effect they had on her was overwhelming.

She felt the boy’s hands on her face, gently wiping away the tears she didn't know were there –he knew how much she hated being seen while crying.

When she finally dared to open her eyes, something clicked inside her as she was met with the prettiest shade of green.

She had never felt this way in her life, so free, so safe.

And despite the fear swirling within her, she wanted to try –to try with him.

“You are not mean, you are not a bad person, you are not something that is wrong."

His hands were so, so soft on her cheeks that she could've died.

But she didn't; she felt more alive than ever.

"You live, you act and you feel so, so much. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved, you have to be you. That would be enough for me.” She smiled at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

In response, she leaned in closer, pressing a soft, salty kiss to his lips. 

And she felt like she deserved it, like it was meant to happen. And maybe it was.

She felt so, so loved.

hi!! this is how i feel daily lately and i am so scared of telling someone! but i hope you like it!

[sanemistar]

NEVER MEANT TO BE

contents ★ pro hero!katsuki x gn!reader, heavy angst, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort, slight swearing, 1k+ wc. requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ mha m.list

it was another cold winter day. the weather was as cold as ever and the sky was gray and gloomy, exactly how it was like that day. you sat there pointlessly staring at the window in a lifeless gaze as your mind replayed flashbacks to the day when everything ended with katsuki, and the sound of your yelling still vividly rang in your ears as if it had just happened.

it was a cold winter day when you had another argument with katsuki. you were aware of his hot temper and notorious attitude caused by his anger issues and his difficult job as a pro hero all along, so that wasn’t news to you. but because things used to be perfect at the beginning of your relationship, you thought that it wouldn’t really be a problem. since you accepted katsuki the way he was, you thought you could handle it.

except that as time passed by and things progressed, the cracks in the relationship began to show. and his anger issues worsened more and more. until it had reached a point where he would constantly yell at you over the smallest things, and you were just fed up. you couldn’t take it anymore.

“katsuki… i can’t take it anymore, i’m done.” you blurted out. shocking not only your boyfriend, but yourself as well. you never thought a day would come when you would utter such words to katsuki, he was the one man whom you loved more than anyone else in the world, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him by your side.

or so you thought.

you didn’t even realize that you had been trying to convince yourself that everything was fine and nothing was wrong for the longest time when in fact, things between you and him were completely far from being fine.

meanwhile, it was just then when katsuki realized that he had messed up big time. he was just then aware of the pressure and stress he had put you through until you couldn’t endure it anymore. he didn’t even remember when was the last time he didn’t have to yell.

that moment was an eye opener for the two of you to come to the conclusion that it was too late to go back to the way you once were, and that it was probably the end.

silence loomed over the shared bedroom, turning it from the most comfortable and safest place you once thought you could ever be in to an unfamiliar, scary place you wanted to run away from. but you were anxiously fidgeting with your fingers and your feet were glued to the floor, as if there was something weighing you down. making you unable to move.

your eyes were fixated on your feet, not daring to look up. although you did wonder what expression was on katsuki’s face back then.

after what seemed like years of awkward silence, katsuki finally spoke up.

“i put ya through so fucking much, didn’t i?” surprisingly, his voice was calm and soft spoken. it was said in the same voice that you had missed so much.

“look, i’m really sorry. i’ve been nothing but shitty to you this whole time we have been together, and you deserve someone better, so i’m lettin’ ya go.” you felt a twinge in your heart, as if you were being stabbed by a sharp knife.

your heart throbbed painfully, you weren’t ready to hear what he had just said. you didn’t want him to let you go, you wanted to hear him say that he’d stay and try his best with you to make it work out.

“we were never meant to be together.” you finally looked up, eyes wide open as they met his red ones for the first time in a while.

had you and katsuki really never been a good match and you had been blind to it all along?

it just hit you that your once perfect world had crashed intensely, breaking into pieces.

everything really was over. and it happened in the worst way you could ever imagine.

you didn’t even know what to say back to all that. as if words completely flew away from your head. you just found yourself running towards katsuki, body acting on its own as you wrapped your arms around him so tightly and began sobbing uncontrollably. the tears that welled in your eyes for long began to overflow and fall down your red cheeks, finally letting go of the anguish that was paining you.

you felt his strong arms holding you back, pulling you close to him and feeling you against his body one last time.

after some time you two broke away, eyes staring as you engraved each other’s faces in your heads. he cupped your cheeks in his calloused hands and the two of you shared your final kiss, your first and final goodbye. it tasted so bitter and so salty due to your tears, you hated it but you didn’t want it to end. because after that you would no longer feel those lips against yours.

but unfortunately, it had to come to an end.

nothing else was said after that, katsuki just packed his bags and moved out. the sight of his back facing you back then had been living in your memory to this day. despite that happening two years ago.

and for these past two years you hadn’t seen katsuki once, not even in your dreams. the only times you'd see him were when he was on tv having his heroic actions celebrated. he started off as a stranger to you who became your first ever love only to go back to being a stranger you knew nothing about.

you had hated winters. not only because you weren't a big fan of cold weather and gray, cloudy skies, but also because they always reminded you of your first love who ended up making you go through your first breakup and your biggest heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @17020

[fanaticsnail]

Degradation Dom vs Praise Dom

A good cop bad cop, but it's Kid and Killer. Just dialogue.

And 'cop' is replaced by 'cock'.

"This ass isn't worth nothing but to take my cock. That's it. Take it, honey. Fuck, take that shit."

"Look at you, pretty. Taking us both so well. Doing so good, baby. Good job."

"You deserve to be fucked senseless and dumb on this cock, don't you? Say my name. Tell me who's making you feel this good. Kiss him. That's it, baby."

"Oh, look at you. All dumbstruck by our cocks deep in you. Pretty. Keep being pretty for me? That's a good little thing."

"You gonna cum again? Fucking shout it. Let me see you scream for me. Go on. Make a mess on me. Fuckin' cry for me and tell the world who's making you feel this good."

"So close, aren't you? Go on, pretty thing. You deserve this. Oh, you're being so good. Go on, let it all out and then we'll start all over again."

"Can feel your body squeezing me. So greedy, little thing. You want to make me cum, don't you? You crave it, don't you? That's our pretty thing. Fuck you and this ass."

"You're gonna make him cum if you keep that up. Good job, kitten. Make the big guy cum and you'll get your little reward. Oh, you like that, don't you? Good. Let him have it."

"Ah, shit. You're gonna milk me dry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-! Oh, you slut. Fuck you. Fuck, I'm cumming. Fuck you, you asshole. Nghmmmh, fuck. You. Better. Make. Killer. Cum. Too."

"Oh, I'm right there. Oh, that's my good little thing. That's it. Milk me dry, baby. Oh, fuck. Shit. Mghhh-, fuck. You better be right there and cumming on our cocks, or I'm about to make you regret that."

"Ah, shit. You made us cum without permission, didn't you, sweet thing? Kil's not gonna like that."

"You took him like a champ, but you've been ever so naughty. You better be prepared for the consequences, sweet thing. That's it. Lie on back for me, baby."

@thenotsofantasticlifestory I blame you.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Y'know how Cacao has a son, you remember dark Choco right? Y'know how Vanilla got custard the II right? And then there's holly with royalberry and Golden Cheese with fettuccine and White Lily with.... Gigngerbrav-

What the beasts think?

Could be yandere, could be their already a thing, some other stuff idgf i must hear your words on this

Been wanting to try to answer this one since I saw it haha. Let's go both routes I've got for these bozos, Reformed Beasts and Yandere Beasts

Reformed Shadow Milk: I want to imagine that, once upon a time, Shadow was an actual people person and was genuinely fond of children. After he reforms, he regains that old fondness, and it extends to Custard III (perhaps more than all other kids, just because he's close to Vanilla). Such a cute, silly boy, with his silly crown and his silly dreams (not that he wants the kid to feel bad for wanting to be a king, it's just... Kid doesn't seem to understand what a king actually is, you know? It's funny, and a bit sad... But Vani is there and now so is Shadow, so it'll probably be fine). He keeps calling Custard his son/nephew/grandson/apprentice/heir (he keeps thinking of new titles all the time, all tongue-in-cheek) and cooing over him... in a not-so-different manner than how he likes to fuss over Vani lol

Yandere Shadow Milk: Ohhhhh this tiny little creature. This bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, ignorant little WEAKLING. None can take Pure Vanilla's place in ANY capacity, including leadership; though he might be a soft-hearted fool, Vanilla is nevertheless a capable king, and Shadow knows this - and he deeply, violently resents the thought of anyone usurping him, even if that throne no longer truly exists anymore. The thought of a small child wanting to be a king? To be like his Silly-Vanilly? Foolishness - and Shadow only tolerates foolishness if it occurs on HIS timetable and HIS terms. But it's fine... This child shall pay for his hubris eventually. Vani means so much to the boy, and vice versa... Perhaps Shadow can use this to his advantage. Perhaps he can breathe a whisper or two into his ear. Leave a footstep or two behind in his dreams. Tie a string to him somewhere, see if he notices - and after he doesn't, which Shadow knows he won't, he'll tie another. And another, and another. Until Shadow can greet the world with his brand new puppet. Poor little orphan boy, nowhere to go and no one to care about him... Stupid, arrogant, foolish little boy, who thinks he can rule the world and that he can ever be a fraction of who Vani is and was. He shall atone for his sins. For his pride, for that empty head, for that hideous little costume (he would try to stitch together such a haphazard monstrosity in the face of Shadow's own superior craftsmanship? He would try to don his Silly-Vanilly's face this way?!)... For being dear to Pure Vanilla at all, because the only person who deserved to exist in Vanilla's world is Shadow Milk himself.

Reformed Eternal Sugar: Now that she has found a place in the world and by Hollyberry's side, Sugar has likewise found good company in those surrounding Hollyberry herself - including and especially her dear son. Such a sweet man; so much like his mother, inside and out, albeit without the same energy... but that was alright. Royalberry's passion simply manifests in a different manner, one more similar to Sugar's own. Calmer, quieter, but no less sweet and sincere. Sugar almost acts as a motherly figure to him herself, sometimes... He doesn't mind, though. They get along quite well. She only hopes that whatever wisdom she can offer in service of the kingdom is actually worthwhile.

Yandere Eternal Sugar: Hm... Perhaps she would like him more if he was HER son. If he'd come from her rightful union with her dear Hollyberry. But he didn't, so she doesn't. Shame, really; he's quite adorable. So much like his mother... but not like her at all, at the same time. He lacked her drive, her spirit. Perhaps that was for the best; Sugar cared nothing for drive or spirit anymore, save for that fire that burned within her dear Hollyberry that awakened what was long-dormant within her... that strange, ethereal feeling that she dared to call happiness. And that lack of drive would make Sugar's plans all the easier... He's a weak, silly man who worries much and often. She has experience with people like that. She'll put him down for a nice nap, let him dream happy dreams where he can pretend he's a worthy king and son. Then she can right the wrong of his and the entire kingdom's existence and have Hollyberry to herself. Hollyberry could even join her in a special she'd gladly make up just for the two of them, where they have their own child, a better one than this fool she already wasted time loving and raising...

Reformed Mystic Flour: In all honesty, Flour actually harbors a bit of admiration for Dark Choco, for the path he once walked wasn't so different from hers... and he, like she eventually did, found the strength and wisdom to turn back. She's had a good few conversations with him about it all; about the nature of redemption and atonement, and how one answers to evil when it calls for your soul. Dark Choco can't help but understand and relate to Flour, always lamenting his own fall to darkness and betrayal of those he meant to protect and serve. Lots of commiserating between them, I'd say. Outright wallowing, at certain points lol. But it's this understanding between them that actually helps Flour along her journey to redemption, arguably more so than what others offer her. She cares for and respects Dark Choco, and vice versa. She can see so much of Dark Cacao in him... whatever mistakes Cacao made, he nevertheless raised a fine young man, even after making mistakes of his own. It only proves to her that Cacao really is the rightful owner of the Soul Jam after all...

Yandere Mystic Flour: ...What a strange feeling this man gives her. So much like Cacao. Too much so, in some places... yet, unlike his father (and, more importantly, exactly like her), he strayed from the path and ultimately stumbled and fell into the same abyss as she and so many others. Flour's denial of her attachment to Dark Cacao likewise extends to those around him, his son more than all the others - in fact, one might be tempted to say that her denial of having any thoughts or feelings regarding Dark Choco is stronger than what she has regarding Dark Cacao. The reason behind this goes as such: with how similar to Cacao he is, and with his fall from grace... it almost makes Flour hope believe ponder whether or not Cacao could fall from grace, as well. If Cacao could follow in his son's footsteps, as his son once tried so hard to follow in his. Dark Choco worsens her sickness, feeds her delusions, albeit indirectly. If he can fall - if he can become a beast - then Cacao can, too. And if he did, then perhaps she... they... No. No, no, not this. Not this nonsense... Dark Choco angers her worse than anyone else in Dark Cacao's life, because he inadvertently offers her this fantasy of Cacao turning out just like her, thus increasing her chances of having him. But... she doesn't want him. She doesn't want anyone or anything. She's not supposed to. Damn it, even things and people tangentially related to Cacao make her worse...

Reformed Burning Spice: Not unlike Shadow Milk, Burning Spice also once liked kids. He liked being seen and admired as a larger-than-life figure, figuratively and literally. He liked that he was "cool", he liked that he could be a big, strong protector to them. It's... difficult for him to lean back into this sentiment again. When you're a mass-murdering tyrant for so long, you tend to lose your people skills (it's something he always envied Shadow Milk for; even as a Beast, he knew how to hold sway over others with AND without violence. That envy was small and buried deep, but it existed nevertheless). And... many of his victims were children. Spice once killed wantonly, indiscriminately. He's beheaded children, cleaved them in two. Left them in pieces, scattered across the earth. The weakest, most vulnerable members of society... when he remembers how dishonorable and pathetic it is to target children, it deals quite the psychological blow. So he's quite awkward and uncomfortable around them while he's working through his redemption; they inspire a particular guilt and remorse in him that adults don't. Golden Cheese keeps pushing him, though, and brought Fettuccine around him most often as a sort of "practice". Fettuccine is calm, sweet and trusting; an "easier" child than most. Plus... she's a mummy. She, too, perished during the Dark Flour War. She's already endured pain, she's already faced death. There's nothing Spice can do that hasn't already been done to the poor girl. And Golden tries to remind him that she doesn't know him; they're complete strangers from different times and places. This is as fresh of a start as you can have with a person. So Spice is made to be an unwilling babysitter for a while... until he does eventually come around and warm up to the girl. And after he overcomes his reservations with Fettuccine, he goes on to overcome those he has with children in general. A series of baby steps that led him down the path of appreciating other people again, and he's grateful this little mummy girl helped him along

Yandere Burning Spice: Pfft. A mummy, huh? Amusing. Are his little bird's grief and desperation so great that it's infected the corpses of her oh so precious subjects? And one actually felt compelled to crawl out of her casket because of them, how charming. Burning Spice HATES Fettuccine. He hates ALL of the Golden Cheese Kingdom's citizens. He hates every single person, every single living organism that Golden Cheese ever paid an ounce of attention to besides himself. All the time and effort, all the blood and sweat and tears his little bird wasted on her oh so precious treasures - all of which should've been spent on HIM. Devoted to HIM. Nothing matters, no one matters, destruction is the only way. He will wipe EVERYTHING she ever held dear off the face of the earth, including Fettuccine. ESPECIALLY Fettuccine. This tiny, weak little worm that wiggled out of the dirt, trying desperately to crawl towards his little bird, craving her presence, her radiance. No. Golden Cheese's radiance is for Burning Spice alone. He can, he will, he MUST maim and dismember this pathetic child as soon as possible; the quicker he separates Golden Cheese from who and what she loves, the better. The quicker he can have her to himself. They can fight, they can dance, they can touch and taste each other, all without her treasures getting in their way. The world is theirs to do with as they please, and together, they shall wreak glorious havoc. And... well... if she gets upset... he can fix it. She likes children, he knows that. He can give her some. Such is his devotion to his other half that he'll briefly betray his nature and create something with her, for her. As many as she wants. As many times as she wants. Their children are the only children he'll ever give a damn about. And so help him, they'll be the only children that SHE gives a damn about, because he's going to slaughter all the other ones, STARTING WITH FETTUCCINE!

Reformed Silent Salt: Same deal as Spice tbh, only x1000. Salt struggles to be around anyone, let alone children, such is his soul-crushing guilt and shame. White Lily is the only one he's able to spend time with for a very long time; she has to coax him into coming into others' line of sight, and it doesn't work half the time. She ends up bringing people to him instead of bringing him to people - and, believing his demeanor might help soften him, she brings Gingerbrave and co. What an... unusually upbeat and forgiving boy, that Gingerbrave is. Lily acts as Salt's translator (I headcanon Salt as being mute and using sign + body language to communicate with people) as well as... a security blanket of sorts, because if she wasn't there, then Salt wouldn't be, either. But she's insistent, and so is Gingerbrave, and so are his friends. It's... strange, to have people be happy to see him again (I'll explain in a separate post, but I have some headcanons regarding Salt's old life and upbringing that basically amount to "I try to make myself useful so people think I have worth"). But it's nice. Nice enough that... he eventually lets more people near him. And eventually, he lets Lily and these kids lead him back to civilization, where he doesn't need to be alone with himself and his guilt anymore...

Yandere Silent Salt: Sigh... White Lily... His White Lily... All Silent Salt really wants is to make her happy. To see her pretty smile. For her to stop being so... sad. So somber. But that happiness needs to come from him. It NEEDS to. He tries so hard to pretend... He tries to be patient, he tries to let her focus on others for only a moment. But it never lasts. She's HIS White Lily. She moves too far away from him, she speaks too many words to someone else, she spends too much time in another's company- and he snaps. And that doesn't change with children, including Gingerbrave. ESPECIALLY Gingerbrave. That boy doesn't... suit her. Her countenance, her demeanor. He's too loud. Too annoying. Too simple. Silent Salt wants him to go away. He wants EVERYONE to go away, really, but Gingerbrave can go ahead first. Leave him and his White Lily to their peace. He tries so hard to pretend to be unbothered, Salt really does. But every passing moment, every ticking of the clock, every sound of that insipid boy's shrill voice and laughter reaching his ears (and all but drilling into his White Lily's, as he knows it must be)... He stands by in the shadows, waiting, waiting to take her back, his grip on his sword only tightening further and further...

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.